Guiltless
by Piper Emerald
Summary: When Matt is forced to take a job at a local news paper he doesn't expected to cover anything exciting. That's before the murder of prodigy Light Yagami, and before Matt's paper is aloud an interview with the murder. From the second Matt walks into the prison's meeting room he realizes there is more to Miheal Keehl, and this case, than is being let on. (AU, I don't own anything)
1. Chapter 1

When Matt took a job at a local news paper he hadn't expected to cover anything exciting. After gaining his undergraduate degree Matt faced the hard fact that without a stroke of luck there was no way in hell an orphan with no financially powerful friends could afford the schooling needed to do what he wanted with his life. So, for the moment, he was going to try to stay alive long enough to figure out where to go next. The community of the city Matt lived in as well as the neighboring towns was sleepy at best. Matt didn't mind this, since he saw his current position as a stepping stone.

Then something completely unexpected happened.

Word of the murder of Light Yagami had spread through Matt's city like wild fire. At first every paper, website, and blog were publishing bios on Yagami and how unjustly his life was snuffed out. Then the killer was caught, and all official opinions met a standstill. This was partly because no one really knew who the man was aside from the police and those in charge of the trial. The killer, apparently, wouldn't talk to his lawyers, therefore they didn't want to allow reporters to see him.

Fortunately, Matt's boss had happened to go to school with one of them and was able to talk his way into sending one of their paper's finest to conduct one interview. Unfortunately, no one had the stomach for it. This meant that man who needed the job the most would have to go. Matt was currently living pay check to pay check in a small apartment. He couldn't afford to say no.

That was how he found himself in a town he had never heard of before, about to interview the man who had put a bullet in the head of the twenty-three-year-old son of same town's successful police chief. He would have been walking in blindly had one of the town's police officers, who had appointed himself as Matt's unofficial guide, not taken pity on him and explained the details that weren't strictly confidential. Matsuda, as the man had introduced himself, turned out to be quite the chatter box and by the time Matt was headed to his scheduled interview he had a decent idea of what he wanted to ask.

The murderer was residing in one of the two holding cells at the town's police station. Matt was to talk to him in the same room that the defense attorneys called their meetings. It was a plain room, empty aside from a table and two chairs on either side of it. There weren't any windows, and the walls were a dismal shade of pale grey. It was exactly the way one might imagine the meeting room of a small town prison.

Matt would have been slightly disappointed by this, had he the time to dwell on it. He had only a second to take it in before his eyes rested on a thin man with choppy blonde hair sitting on the chair facing the door of his room. Although Matt was talented at schooling his expression so that his thoughts were rarely on display, he was glad that the man didn't look up when he walked in. He hadn't imagined Mihael Kheel to be so _pretty_.

Yes, pretty was the right word. The man didn't look older than seventeen, although Matt had been informed that his age was twenty-one, and his build was too girlish to be called handsome. That didn't mean that Kheel wasn't attractive, just not in a stereotypically masculine way. Despite knowing his age and being told that Kheel was rather "unconventional" Matt had expected to interview a muscular and crude faced brute not the slender, high cheek boned boy that sat before him.

"They don't pay you enough," the blonde muttered.

"What was that?" Matt asked good-naturedly.

He had always been praised for his charm, this was a large part of what made him good at his job. Kheel, however, didn't seem at all impressed. Instead of answering he merely grunted and focused his attention on cleaning the nonexistent dirt under his finger nails. Matt cleared his throat as he sat down at the table.

"My name's Matt, I'm a—"

"Journalist," Kheel cut him off in a dry, uninterested tone.

"Yes," Matt kept the tightness out of his voice. They really didn't pay him enough.

"They're actually letting the media in," Kheel mused with a slight chuckle. "Didn't think they'd stoop that low."

"I take it you're not prepared to be interviewed?" Matt asked, testing the waters.

"They don't like to talk to me," Kheel said curtly.

"Your lawyers?" Matt knew that these were the only people that Kheel was in contact with. Although the convict was aloud visitors, none had presented themselves. Either he had no friends and family or they were too ashamed to make themselves known.

"The people your state put in charge of my case," Kheel answered with a sneer.

"Do you think they're misrepresenting you?" Matt wondered.

Kheel shrugged.

"Right," Matt sheepishly glanced down at his note pad.

"What's you're real name?" The question caught him off guard, and he glanced up to meet not entirely disinterested eyes. "It's not really Matt, right?"

"I don't give out my real name," he stated honestly. "Matt is my professional name."

"Well, my professional name's Mello," Kheel shot back with a thin smile.

Matt knew about this. He had gone over the details of the case that had been already made public. Apparently a few years prior their had been a series of deaths of small named mafia members. The only link to a killer that remained was a slip of paper bearing the name "Mello" in gothic lettering. Eventually the case went cold due to a lack of evidence. However, after catching Kheel and his DNA was run through the system they found that it matched the the little they had. When questioned on the subject Kheel had casually confirmed it. Only now did Matt realize that the murderer would have had to have been only fifteen when he first spilt blood.

"Nice to meet you, Mello." Matt said this in a level voice. "I'd like to talk about why you're here."

"You wanna know how I did it?" Kheel smirked.

"Not exactly," Matt replied. "I want to know what happened that would make you want to kill such an innocent man."

"Maybe I'm just a sociopath," Kheel stated.

"Unfortunately, you've been tested negative," Matt countered. "I know that there are things you don't want to tell them. I'm not going to be one of the people telling you what you should plead or how you should present yourself."

"You want a story," Kheel said.

"I want _your_ story," Matt corrected. "You may not be able to save your life, but I can make sure that you don't die with the world thinking you're an animal."

"What makes you think I care about that?" Kheel inquired.

"Everyone cares what others think about them," Matt answered.

Kheel laughed.

"Okay, sure," he finally replied.

"You'll answer my questions?" Matt had to admit compliance was not something he anticipated.

"Once you hear what I have to say, you're not going to want to write it," Kheel shrugged. "But I guess there's no harm in humoring you. Besides, I have nothing better to do."

* * *

 **Guess who actually wrote something for the first time in forever! Please review (I love predictions since this story's gonna be a bit more ploty than my last)! Thanks!**

 **I spent an hour of trying to upload the cover image I worked really hard on to no avail (pfft, I'm not salty), so if anyone would like to see that it's on my instagram and tumblr (link in bio) or will be as soon as I post this.**


	2. Chapter 2

_The life of a young, intelligent man with his entire future ahead of him just ended. Since childhood he had been proclaimed a protege, since adolescence a genius, but now a dark curtain has fallen on his stage._

 _This man is not Light Yagami. It is his killer._

 _While the general public know the face of the deceased, it is easy to look at Mihael Keehl and only see a monster. However, the truth is not as clear cut as we assume. Two children began with the same potential but ended up on either side of a loaded gun. Why did Yagami's life end so abruptly and what turned Keehl into the killer that cut it short?_

* * *

Matt interviewed Mihael Keehl on Saturday afternoon. He was expected to return to the office come Monday with the article in hand. That gave him the full Sunday to construct said article in the shabby hotel room the paper had paid for him to stay. After hunching in front of his out of date MacBook for what felt like the entire day, Matt finally declared himself done.

Unfortunately, Keehl was correct. The story wasn't what the paper was looking for. Matt had recognized this as he was walking back to the hotel. He still wrote it all the same, he couldn't exactly return empty handed.

"How'd it go?" Linda's voice was bright even through the crappy cellphone connection.

"I have no idea," Matt sighed. "I mean it's done, but I don't think it's something we should print."

"Right." She was probably nodding.

Making friends hadn't been Matt's priority when he had first taken his job. He rarely had to directly work with anyone, and this wasn't something his antisocial side had a problem with. Acting extroverted while interviewing those involved in the stories he wrote was all the conversation that he needed. However, when it came to talking, Linda hadn't given him much of a choice.

She occupied the desk next to him, when they were both in the office and not the field. At these times Matt had concluded that her chatty nature was due to boredom. She wasn't the sort to enjoy desk work, and the constant attempts at conversation was her only way to cope with her restlessness. He soon learned that it wasn't being cooped up in the office, but the job itself that confined her to the hyper state of boredom. Linda was meant to be an artist, but was as down on her luck as Matt. Once he admitted their similar positions, it was easy to feel a sort of kinship with her and allow the conversations to continue.

"I'm just ready to come home and sleep all this off," Matt admitted.

Linda laughed loudly.

"Oh God," Matt groaned. He knew enough not to like the sound of that laugh. "What happened?"

"Have you turned on a TV in the past twenty-four hours?" She asked in a humored tone.

"No," Matt told her. "I locked myself in my room to write this fucked up article."

"Google 'Light Yagami,'" she instructed.

"Why?"

"Just do it." He could tell that she was still grinning like a cat.

"Fine," he muttered, opening the search engine on his computer. "But I don't understand why you can't just—"

The words he had been speaking left his mouth the second his eyes met the first headline on the screen.

"You looking at it?" Linda knew the answer to this.

"Yup." Matt popped the 'p.' "Can you tell our boss—"

"That you're gonna need a few more days?" She finished for him.

"Yeah," Matt breathed.

"He wants you to stay longer," she told him. "There's no way we're missing out on being the first to get Keehl's side of this."

"He might not talk," Matt wasn't sure why he said this.

"If you got him to talk yesterday I think you can figure it out," her tone was far more confident than Matt felt. "I have to go. Good luck, Mattie-Boy!"

"Bye."

He let her hang up first. After letting out a long exhale he resolved the take a shower and a nap before getting on the phone with Keehl's lawyers and begging for another interview. As he left the room, he didn't bother to close his computer, in a few minutes it would fall asleep, shutting off the screen full of jarring articles. Eventually the title burned into his mind would blink into darkness.

 **Police Discover Identity of Serial Murderer Kira To Be The Deceased Light Yagami**

* * *

"I thought you'd be back," Keehl smiled openly when Matt entered the room.

"You may have left out a few details the other day," Matt replied in a nonchalant tone.

"I'm a forgetful person," Keehl shrugged.

"Yeah," Matt forced a chuckle. "I'm sure your lawyers love that."

"Oh, they do," Keehl leaned back in his chair. "So, you gonna ask why I wanted to kill a mass murderer?"

"I'll assume it wasn't an act of justice," Matt had ruled this out early on.

"It depends on what that word means to you." For a second it seemed like Keehl was about to say more on the subject, but instead a thoughtful look passed over him as his eyes rested on Matt. "People here didn't know much about Kira."

"Most of his victims lived in more populated states," Matt voiced the knowledge he had accumulated before leaving the hotel room.

"Travel's easy when you know where you're going," Keehl stated. "Some places respected him. He mostly killed criminals, the ones that the cops couldn't catch or prosecute. After a while the ones he didn't get were too scared to act out. They thought they'd be next."

"Mostly criminals?" Matt had seen anyone with an innocent track record on the list of victims.

"Yeah," Keehl pursed his lips. The action seemed too sophisticated for him, and gave him the look of a child pretending to understand an adult conversation.

"How did you figure out it was him?" Matt switched to a different tactic. Keehl wasn't going to elaborate that easily on what he had just let slip.

"I didn't."

"So you didn't know?" Matt doubted this.

"That's not what I said," Keehl's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't the one to figure it out."

"Who did?"

"Guess," Keehl crossed his arms and shot Matt an unreadable expression.

"The non-criminal Yagami murdered," Matt realized.

"Bingo," Keehl said dryly.

"Was he a friend of yours?" Matt softened his voice now, knowing this could still be a delicate matter.

"No," Keehl said shortly. "I mean, he was more of a mentor."

Matt took this information in. Keehl having some sort of father figure bent on catching Kira didn't exactly add up, unless—

"Did he die before or after you killed the mafia members?"

Keehl smirked.

"You're smarter than you look, you know?" He confirmed the answer to Matt's question.

"I didn't realize I looked dumb," Matt responded.

"None of the cute guys I've met have had much of a brain," Keehl explained, smirk on leaving his face.

"Accept for Yagami?" The words were out of Matt's mouth before he could stop them.

"He wasn't much of a catch when I met him," Keehl replied. "Although, I suppose the fear of death and loss of power is a reasonable excuse for the disgusting faces he made."

"Are you going to tell your lawyers what you told me?" Matt changed the subject.

"Are you going to tell your readers you thought Kira was cute?" Keehl shot back.

Matt ignored this.

"If the jury knows that you killed him because he murdered someone you loved, they may be more sympathetic." Matt was sure that the town's opinion of Yagami had made a hair pin turn. "They probably won't give you the death penalty."

'"Why do you care?" Keehl's voice was cold.

That was a good question. Why did Matt care? Sure, now that he knew why Keehl had murdered Yagami he did pity him, but that didn't change the fact that Keehl was able to end a man's life without feeling an ounce of guilt. Was that the sort of person that Matt wanted to befriend?

"Justice," Matt sated.

Keehl raised an eyebrow.

"Kira obviously didn't respect it, no matter what the public called him," Matt continued. "He saw it as something that didn't apply to him. Your friend—your mentor was trying to change that, and he died because of it. Justice may not be why you did what you did, but it's something that you deserve as much as your mentor and as much as the man you killed."

"And justice would keep me alive?" Keehl didn't asked this mockingly.

"I don't know," Matt confessed. "But you're not going to be fairly tried unless the jury know everything."

For a moment Keehl just stared at him. Then a sad smile crept onto his face. Matt didn't understand why this made him feel so disappointed.

"Interview me again tomorrow," Keehl stated. "I'll think about what you said in the meantime."

"It doesn't work like that," Matt all but sputtered. "And I need to get back to work soon."

"This is work," Keehl said flatly. "Tell your editors you need more time. They'll let you talk to me again."

Matt wasn't sure if 'they' meant his boss or Keehl's lawyers.

"Okay," he didn't have the energy to argue and there was nothing else to say. "I'll see you tomorrow I guess."

Keehl grinned triumphantly.

* * *

 **Thanks to Guest, cheeseandhamburger, and Bluxpudding for the reviews!**

 **Bluxpudding, you're a very critical reader, and I'm really glad someone who notices things is reading this! I guess this chapter answers the Kira thing. Looking back I do wish I made the first few chapters longer but I feel like they're split where it** **makes the most sense. Thanks for the predictions!**


	3. Chapter 3

Crazy.

That was what Matt kept calling himself as he paced back and forth the hotel room. He had just enough to write a decent article, one that would pay himself and the paper he worked for well. There was no reason to stay in this small town and continue to talk to this murderer. Sure, he could get away with it. His boss believed him when he said he needed more time.

Matt didn't necessarily feel guilty for drawing out his trip, despite it being more for his own intrigue than work. Yet, he still had the feeling that it would be smarter to leave now. Before this was something dangerous that he didn't need to get caught up in. Instead of running away he was walking straight into it.

Crazy.

"Good morning Mattie," Keehl said in a cheery voice as Matt opened the door.

It didn't feel right to continue thinking of him by his real name. This wasn't Mihael Keehl he was talking to. No, the man was right to refer to himself by the name he had used to kill the mafia members. Matt wasn't interviewing a the man who had committed a murder. He was begging for the story of a boy who had outsmarted a maniac and managed to get caught in the process.

"Nice to see you, Mello."

—

 _In some parts of the world, Kira has become a household name. Like many topics, he is surrounded by different controversial view points. Some see him as a feared murderer, while others argue that a man who only killed criminals can't be all that bad._

 _Mello's stance on the matter was always clear._

—

"Tell me more about your mentor," Matt suggested.

"More than that fact that Kira murdered him?" Mello's tone was one of disinterest, that meant he wanted to keep this information private.

"Yes," Matt wasn't in the mood to tiptoe around Mello's walls.

"He was a good man," Mello stated. "Some people thought that he was too arrogant or that he didn't respect human life, but that wasn't true."

"He was a detective?" Matt assumed this much.

"A private one," Mello answered. "A renowned private one. The sort of detective who could take whatever job he wanted."

"What was his name?" Matt wondered.

Mello chuckled.

"Right," Matt exhaled.

"It's nothing personal," Mello said with a grin. "Even now people don't know his identity. I can't just give that information to some over persistent reporter."

"I'm over persistent?" Matt scoffed. "You're the one who told me to come back!"

"I also told the warden to give me chocolate," Mello informed him. "So far you've been the only person to listen to me."

"Fair point," Matt admitted. "So were you going to also be a detective?"

"I _am_ a detective," Mello's voice was only slightly defensive. "I just killed Kira instead of turning him in."

"You don't call him by his real name," Matt observed.

"I hunted a mass murderer," Mello explained bitterly. "Not some prodigy college boy."

"Calling him Light Yagami makes him too human," Matt tried to grasp.

"You miss understand me," Mello said. "Light Yagami isn't his real name. Kira—killer—is who he really is."

"Did your mentor want you to kill him?"

Mello hesitated. Matt mentally congratulated himself.

"No," Mello said this as if the word gave his mouth sour taste.

"He didn't want Kira to die?" Matt threw out.

"Not exactly," Mello attempted to gain back control of the conversation.

"He wanted Kira arrested then?" Matt connected the dots. "He wanted justice."

"He wanted to win," Mello's tone was irritable. "They both did and they both died."

The resentment was clear, Matt just couldn't tell if it was directed toward Kira for killing Mello's mentor or the mentor himself for dying. The later was unreasonable, but not irrational.

"Did he have proof?"

Mello shrugged.

"It was a while ago," he stated. "And it wasn't like I was on the inside."

"Surely he could have gone to the police, or gotten someone else to—"

"No one could have helped," Mello's eyes narrowed to an ice cold glare. Matt didn't like being on the receiving side of this.

"Okay," he retreated, he'd have to go about this differently. "You said his identity was a secret."

"Yeah," Mello confirmed.

"Did Kira know who he was?" Matt let the question slip.

Hesitation. Bingo.

"It wasn't a bad tactic," Mello voiced reluctantly. "I didn't use it, but it wasn't bad."

"Getting to know a mass murderer?" Matt asked doubtfully before he could stop himself.

To his surprise Mello didn't look irritated. Instead he considered Matt for a moment before he began to speak his counter argument.

"If you were to kill someone," Mello began. "If you were to kill someone so extraordinarily well that you practically disproved Locard's principle—you didn't leave a single trace of evidence behind—how do you think the cops would figure out it was you?"

"I don't know," Matt admitted.

"Then think," Mello wasn't letting him out that easy.

"If there wasn't any evidence," Matt repeated.

"Not a single clue," Mello added smoothly.

"Then there would be nothing pointing to me," Matt reasoned.

"Would there?" Mello smirked.

"Not unless," Matt drew out the words in thought.

"Unless?"

"Unless one of them knew me," Matt finished.

"Exactly."

"So you're saying your mentor thought he could expose Kira by getting to know him?" Matt resumed his role of the the question asker.

"By getting into his head," Mello clarified. "If you know someone's mind well enough you can anticipate their possible mistakes."

"But it didn't work for him," Matt pushed his luck by pointing this out.

"It did and it didn't," Mello shrugged.

"Why didn't you turn him in?" Matt asked. "Kira, I mean. Now that he's dead the investigators are digging up a treasure trove of mistakes—"

"He got lazy after," Mello interjected with a smirk.

"He would have died either way," Matt pressed. "The only difference is that now you might as well."

"That's a good question," Mello informed him.

"Does it deserve a good answer?" Matt countered.

"Yes," Mello looked at him mirthlessly. "But not everyone gets whats they deserve."

"Okay, I walked into that one," Matt chuckled.

"You really did," Mello agreed.

"You looked up to him?" Matt asked. "Your mentor, I mean."

"He was the best man I ever knew," Mello's tone dipped toward mournful.

"So when he died you vowed revenge?"

"That makes it sound more dramatic that it was," Mello said flatly.

"But you wanted to avenge him," Matt continued trying to make sense of the fragments Mello allowed him to know.

"Yes," Mello started. "And if I had any choice in the matter, I still wouldn't have done any differently."

Matt blinked at him. The reaction seemed to amuse Mello.

"What do you mean 'if you had any choice?'" Matt couldn't help how dumb founded he sounded.

Mello shrugged.

"Seriously?" Matt shook his head. "You can't just drop something like that."

"Why?" Mello outright laughed.

"It's against the rules," Matt decided.

"This isn't a game," Mello argued.

"Yes it is," Matt only now realized this himself.

Mello's gaze hardened.

"For it to be a game," he started. "Both us have to be able to either win or loose. I die either way. This is just me toying with you while I wait for that."

He was probably telling the truth, but something made Matt think that Mello wasn't the type to waste time. There had to be some other reason why he wanted Matt to come back. Matt could put that on a list of things he'd try to find out. The list was getting longer with each conversation. For some reason that was the opposite of frustration. Matt didn't understand it.

"Sure," he voiced

"What?" Mello all but demanded

"Nothing." It was Matt's turn to grin.

Mello held all of the cards, but that didn't mean he couldn't bluff. After all, he didn't have anything at stake. There was no way for Matt to loose.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Matt stood up.

"I don't want visitors tomorrow," Mello challenged.

"But you do," Matt dismissed.

"Stop smirking, you look like a child," Mello huffed.

"That's ironic," Matt laughed.

"Whatever."


	4. Chapter 4

Matt dropped the tinfoil wrapped square on the desk. He was careful to maintain a neutral expression.

"Is that a bribe," Mello's eyes were glued to the candy.

"Depends," Matt sat down with an air of confidence.

Mello picked up the chocolate bar.

"And if I eat it and don't tell you anything?" Mello asked warily.

"It was three dollars," Matt informed him. "Hardly a dear expense."

Mello chuckled. Smoothly he picked up the rectangle and unwrapped the foil on the top end. Matt leaned back in his seat.

"But you want to tell me," he casually voiced what he had theorized the night prior.

Mello sharply snapped the top row of chocolate in half with his teeth. His eyes lit up with delight. Matt doubted he'd had anything remotely sweet since his arrest.

"What makes you say that?" Mello's voice was as even as if had been before, but the fire in his eyes had not diminished.

"You like the power information gives you," Matt put his cards on the table. Playing cool had lasted long enough. "But it only works if you give me a little of it."

"I'd argue," Mello started. "But you've triggered a good mood."

"Glad to hear it," Matt chimed.

"Ask away," Mello offered.

"Well that was easy," Matt voiced.

"I didn't say I'd answer everything," Mello added.

"Sure."

"I don't like it when you say that word."

"Good to know," Matt pulled his notepad from his pocket, not even trying to contain his own smirk.

—

 _"_ _Motivation stems from competition."_

 _Mihael Keehl was raised on this principle. He wasn't given the choice on whether or not he wanted to believe it._

 _At the age of six he left the comfort of innocence behind, and was launched into an endless contest. Today he doesn't remember much of the family he had before. He was told this was due to the traumatic event that claimed his birth family, and has had little desire to doubt this._

 _Even from that young age it was clear to most adults who interacted with him that Keehl was different. Some deemed this as a high intelligence, while others analyzed him as "off." It was a combination of the two that ended him in Wammy's House, an orphanage for children who were intelligent in an off way._

 _This was where he met his rival._

 _—_

"Rival isn't the right word," Mello's eye squinted as he searched for the right way to coin the relationship.

"If the two of you have been fighting—"

"Competing," Mello interjected.

"Competing," Matt allowed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Then rival is exactly the right word."

"It's not that I hate him," Mello mused, he seemed farther away now.

"Right," Matt encouraged.

"I mean I do," Mello laughed. "But it's not real hate. I wouldn't want him to die."

"Just because you hate someone doesn't mean you need to want them dead," Matt needed to voice.

Mello looked at him critically. Matt decided he didn't like that look. It made him feel like he had to justify something he found obvious.

"In high school," Matt started.

Mello scoffed.

"I had to sit next to this boy," Matt continued, ignoring the attitude. "It was in my Latin class, so I don't even know what his real name was, but his Latin name was Sextus—"

Mello scoffed again, but it felt less spiteful this time.

"Anyway, he would always say how he knew everything about the subject, and laugh at me—laugh at everyone—whenever we butchered a word." Matt could still remember this person clearer than the subject he was supposed to have been learning. "Annoying stuff like that, so most of my class didn't really care. But I really liked the subject, and just wanted to focus on my work."

"That's everyone at Wammy's," Mello murmured.

"What I'm saying," Matt attempted a conclusion. "Is that I hated this kid's guts. But if one day I got to class and found out he'd been stabbed I wouldn't rejoice."

"I would," Mello said blandly.

"You're not hearing me," Matt informed him.

"You hated this kid because he poked fun at you and was a braggart, right?" Mello summed up.

"More or less, yeah," Matt admitted.

"And you never once wished that he'd just drop off the face of the Earth?"

"No." Matt thought about it. "Okay, maybe, but that doesn't mean—"

"It doesn't mean you'd kill him," Mello finished. "But if he died, you would have been a little bit happy that you wouldn't have to deal with him anymore."

"I…" Matt was at a loss.

"Or maybe I'm just putting words in your mouth," Mello shrugged.

"So you don't think this about your rival—competitor," Matt corrected himself.

"No," Mello shook his head. "Near is annoying as fuck, but it'd be kinda boring without him."

"Near?"

"Not his real name, obviously," Mello smirked. "But you might as well call him that. If you publish this it'll be my last pester."

"Do you think he hates you?" Matt asked.

"Near doesn't hate anything," Mello answered. "Or like anything. He's just a blank slate."

"Did you," Matt wasn't sure how to phrase this. "You know, like, have a thing for him?"

"God no," Mello laughed very loudly. "Blank slate in every single sense."

"Okay," Matt backed off. "Just wondering."

Mello was giving him an odd look, that Matt decided it was better not to address.

"So Near had the same mentor as you?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," the look was replaced with something more somber. "He couldn't decide which one of us was smarter."

"He couldn't just teach both of you?" Matt didn't understand.

"It's complicated," Mello brushed off.

"I'm listening," Matt pressed.

"Ask me tomorrow," Mello decided.

"Seriously?" Matt exclaimed.

"Hey, I talked a lot today," Mello defended. "Plus, I'm tired."

"Fine," Matt sighed.

—

"So you have no idea when you're coming back?" Linda sounded far too amused by this.

"Yeah," Matt groaned into his cell phone.

If Mello was tired he was exhausted. After getting home he had done his best to put the clustered information he'd been given into a written format. At this point he didn't know what his boss was expecting him to turn in once he returned, but he doubted what Mello was giving him to work with would be able to form it.

"He keeps telling me to come back," Matt explained.

"Is that aloud?" Linda wondered.

"I don't know," Matt didn't care. "The problem is, each time I feel like I'm close to getting something, he stops talking."

"It's like that fairytale," Linda commented.

"I don't even care about what I'm turning in anymore," Matt admitted out loud. "I just want a straight answer for once."

"I read it in middle school, what was the name?" Linda murmured.

"I think he's just bored and likes to mess with me," Matt sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "It's my fault that I keep coming back, but how can I not?"

" _A Thousand Arabian Nights_ or something like that," Linda said.

Matt paused his rambling.

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" he asked.

"It's about a sultan who kills all his brides after the wedding night," she explained.

"That's not how most people do one night stands," he snarked dryly.

"Your humor is bad when you're tired," she said curtly. "But one of them outsmarts him and tells him a story before he falls asleep. Only the story ends in a cliff hanger so he decides to let her live another night."

"And she does the same thing?" Matt assumed.

"For a thousand nights she does the same thing," Linda confirmed. "Or some big number like that, I don't really remember. But once she reaches the end of the last story, he's fallen in love with her and doesn't kill her."

"Nice grounds for a relationship," Matt voiced flatly.

"Shut up, it's beautiful," she chided.

"But that would make me the sultan," Matt pointed out the flaw in her comparison. "And I have absolutely no power here."

"I'm not sure he did either," Linda said dreamily. "Men always think they do, when they really don't."

"Still," Matt wasn't going to argue that with her on that one. "I can't stop Mello from dying."

"Mello?"

"Keehl," Matt quickly corrected. "Mello's his, um, well it's what he likes to be called."

"That's kinda weird," she informed him.

"This whole situation is 'kinda weird'," Matt responded. "Look, I need to get some sleep."

"Same here," she didn't sound fatigued at all. "I was just calling to make sure everything was alright."

More like to quench her own curiosity.

"Thanks," Matt said anyway.

"Good luck."

"Yeah," he muttered. "I think I need it."


	5. Chapter 5

In the four days Matt had spent working on the Mihael Keehl story, his mornings had fallen into an oddly casual routine. He still woke up at six am, deciding it was better to keep an early sleep schedule. Matt had always hated eating breakfast soon after waking, and would spend the first hour of his day going over what he had written the evening before. After that he took a break to pursue what other articles had been written on Kira and Mello. By seven thirty, he left the hotel to eat at a near by coffee shop.

It was the close to the hotel and relatively cheep. Matt probably could have found a more cost effective location, but he didn't think coffee shot hunting would be a good use of his (probably) limited time in the town. It was quiet enough, and the same sort of people were there each morning. The men and women in suits who stopped there on their way to work were interchangeable. The handle of high schoolers who were probably late for class were constant. The blonde woman who never looked up from her computer screen and probably hadn't even ordered anything was normal.

This place was where Matt was when he ran into Totua Matsuda. It wasn't that odd, considering how small the town was, but Matt hadn't expected to see the man who had initially helped him find his bearings again. That being said, each day Max hadn't expected he'd be staying much longer, and each day Mello lengthened his time in the town.

Being oddly social considering how much the man had witnessed in the past month, Matsuda immediately greeted Matt with a wide smile. Being less social, Matt let him direct the conversation, landing them, of course, on how Matt's progress with Mello was getting.

"It's interesting to say the least," Matt told him.

"I can imagine," Matsuda nodded sadly. "I could have never seen any of that coming."

He had mentioned knowing Light Yagami when Matt first met him. Matt doubted the Kira news had been easy to process.

"I'm sorry," seemed the right thing for him to say.

"I just feel bad for the family," the cheer from Matsuda's voice was gone. "It's too much for anyone to handle."

Matt nodded. He hadn't thought much about Kira's family. As wrong as he knew it was, humanizing the person that Mello killed didn't sit well him. It was easier to think of Light Yagami as a monster and Mello as…well, at least as less of a monster.

"It's hardest for Sayu," Matsuda kept talking. "It was like loosing him all over again, only this time with the whole world was saying such awful things about all of them."

"Yagami's sister?" Matt vaguely recalled reading that he had one.

"Yeah," Matsuda confirmed. "She feels like no ones listening to her. Sad part is: I think she's right."

"Seems like you're listening," Matt pointed out.

"Oh, I don't count," Matsuda said as if this was obvious.

Matt was about to ask how that brand of logic worked, but before he could he witnessed a light bulb go off in Matsuda's brain. Dryly he wondered what the world would be like if everyone's face lit up every time they thought they had a brilliant idea. People who thought their every whim was divinity would never stop glowing. He tried to picture Mello like this.

"Are you still writing your article?" Matsuda asked him.

"Yes," Matt held back a groan of irritation.

"Are you just interviewing Keehl or are you talking to other people too?" Matsuda wasn't good at beating around the bush.

"Is there someone you think I should talk to?" Matt asked bluntly.

"I know she wants her voice to be heard, but she's never really liked talking to people about personal things, but she might this time," Matsuda rambled.

"This is Sayu Yagami?" Matt tried to clarify.

"Yes," Matsuda answered with an insistent nodd.

"If she wants to be interviewed that would be great," Matt meant this (partly because it would make for a better story, and partly because he was curious to hear from someone other than Mello).

"Great," Matsuda grinned again. "Here, give me your number, I'll contact you after I ask her."

—

"No chocolate this time, sorry," Matt announced as he entered.

Mello grunted. Matt had expected some witty retort. He was somewhat disappointed not to get one.

"So," he sat down. "I'd start with a question, but that hasn't done much so far."

"I've told you a lot of shit," Mello didn't meet his eyes.

"I'm not saying you haven't," Matt assured him. "I'm saying that when I ask for it you don't exactly have the response I'm looking for."

"Where's the fun in getting what you're looking for." Mello still were still directed away from him, but this was closer to his usual attitude.

"Well," Matt cleared his throat. "Since I'm out of questions that I'm alright with being swatted away, what do you want to tell me."

"I'm not talking about him today," Mello started.

"Which him?" Matt asked. "We've talked about at least three hims."

"Are you trying to act stupid or does it just come naturally?" There was venom in Mello's tone, but Matt could tell the toxin wasn't directly set for him.

"Oh, it's an acquired skill," he answered, feeling slightly witty. "It's one of the things I studied in school-not-for-genius-orphans."

Mello looked up.

"That wasn't even funny," his words dragged less.

"But you're smiling," Matt pointed out cheekily.

"It's pity," Mello assured him.

"You sure you're capable of that?" Matt quipped.

"Only on lost causes," Mello retorted.

There had to be something wrong with this. Matt was talking to a man he had only met days ago as if they were close friends. Not to mention the fact that Mello was an admitted murderer. For some reason this kept slipping from Matt's mind. This man shouldn't feel comfortable around him, and he sure as hell shouldn't feel comfortable around this man.

Yes, there was definitely something wrong with this. But that didn't mean Matt was going to address it. Not just yet.

"Is everything alright?" Matt asked.

Mello gave him one of the most deadpan expression he had ever witnessed.

"Okay, okay stupid question, but you know what I mean," Matt tried to amend.

"No." Mello answered. "Everything is not alright, and, no, I don't want to talk about it."

"It might help," Matt told him.

"Are you a fucking shrink now too?" Mello glared.

"Fine," Matt raised his hands in retreat. "Just trying to be nice."

"Don't," Mello said darkly. "When people are nice it just means that they want something."

"Okay," Matt said in mock defeat. "You've got me, I want to interview you for my article. How did you know?"

"Shut up," Mello leaned back in his chair.

"Is it about the trial?" Matt asked, serious now. "It's getting closer, isn't it?"

"They'll keep finding ways to put it off," Mello shrugged. "Not that procrastination will do any good. It's going to end the same no mater what."

"That's depressing," Matt commented.

"Life's depressing," Mello shot back.

"Deep," Matt joked.

"Shut up," Mello said again.

"Do you want me to leave?" Matt offered for the first time.

"What?" Mello looked confused.

"If you don't feel like talking," Matt tried to explain. "I could just go an come back tomorrow."

And the day after that, and the day after that until Matt was fired and Mello was dead.

"What else are you going to do?" Under the mocking, Matt could hear genuine curiosity. "This town is the most pointless place in the world."

"It created Kira," Matt pointed out.

"Kira created himself," Mello shot down. "This place had nothing to do with it."

"Debatable," Matt interjected.

"Do you really want to debate what caused Kira?" Mello look annoyed.

"No," Matt answered seriously, "I want to talk about why you're depressed."

"Great."

"But we don't have to," he added. "I could just leave and hope you're more talkative tomorrow."

"I'm never talkative," Mello sounded offended.

"You are," Matt argued anyway.

"Whatever," Mello looked that the ceiling.

Matt shifted his weight in his chair.

"So, is that a 'yes, Matt, get the fuck out' or a—"

"What do you think happens after this?" Mello cut through his sentence with a tone loftier than Matt had heard from him before.

"I go home and you—"

"No, not _this_ ," Mello shook his head. "I mean, what do you think happens after death."

"Seriously?" Matt tried very hard not to laugh.

"What?"

"You honestly want to get all existential right now?" Matt did not believe this.

"Why not?" Mello shrugged. "I'm going to see for myself soon enough."

"Can we not talk about you dying," Matt groaned to hide how uncomfortable the thought did make him.

"Okay, let's just talk about death then," Mello put his elbows on the table separating them. "What do you think happens."

"I don't know," Matt sputtered.

"No one knows," Mello stated. "I'm asking what you think."

"For a long time I didn't think about it," Matt admitted.

"But everyone does at some point," Mello voiced. "I bet even Kira did."

"I'm sure someone who killed thousands of people did," Matt agreed. He didn't realize how that sounded until it was already out of his mouth. "Sorry, I didn't—"

"Not offended," Mello brushed off. "So you started questioning it when?"

"You know this isn't how interviews are supposed to work," Matt joked if only to stall.

"I like to break rules," Mello replied. "You've realized this by now, you're just avoiding the question."

"Okay," Matt coughed. "For a while I thought there wasn't anything."

"Right," Mello nodded, not necessarily in agreement.

"Or, at least, I didn't see why I had to believe in something else," Matt added.

"And this changed?" Mello asked.

"Yeah," Matt answered. "Now I still don't know, but I like to think there's something. Occasionally I feel like there is, and that's less depressing than there not being anything."

"What changed you mind?"

If Matt was smart he'd stop talking. If he was smart he would not say anything that made him appear remotely vulnerable in front of Mello. He wasn't supposed to trust Mello. He didn't even let himself trust people like Linda.

"My parents died," the words fell out of his mouth smoother than they should have.

"Oh." Mello looked almost sorry that he'd asked.

"Most people would get angry—I mean I did get angry," Matt could still feel it if he let himself. "I got angry at everyone around me for stupid things."

"For being alive when they were gone," Mello murmured.

"Yeah," Matt looked at him, and wished he hadn't. For the first time, he saw himself in Mello's eyes and it didn't feel wrong. For a second he understood Mello better than he ever had before.

"But I didn't get angry at the universe," Matt continued in a soft voice. "I guess I just thought that if they weren't here with me there had to be somewhere."

Mello nodded.

"That doesn't mean I'm not scared of death," Matt added. "Or at all positive that I'm right. I just like to believe I am."

"I used to be Catholic," Mello stated.

"How was that?" Matt asked with a smirk.

"Boring."

They both laughed.

"My mentor's name was L," Mello suddenly voiced.

Matt gaped.

"That wasn't his real name," Mello added. "I don't know that. But everyone knew him as L."

Matt nodded.

"You're right," Mello stretched in his seat. "I don't feel like talking today."

"Okay," Matt stood up, a little relieved that he didn't need to keep speaking after that.

He was about to open the door, when he heard Mello whisper: "Thanks."

"What was that?" Matt turned around.

"I'm only saying it once."

—

 _Hi Matt, this is Matsuda. Says says she'd love to talk to you! Can you meet her at the coffee shop around 8am? She says's she'll wear something blue, but I think you'll pick her out easily anyway. Bye!_

Matt replied to the text with a short "sounds good." This meant he'd need to prepare some questions before the next morning. It'd be refreshing to interview someone who didn't want to play a mind game with him.

Refreshing. That was a nice word to describe the situation. It showed little of the emotions that really should not exist, and the conflict that he really did not want to think about.


	6. Chapter 6

Matt preferred to be early to appointments, and pointedly made sure to arrive at the coffee shop fifteen minutes 'til eight. He figured this would give him time to get a drink and gather his thoughts before the interview with the Yagami girl. However, when he walked into the cafe, the first thing he noticed was a young woman in a blue blouse sitting in the table furtherest from the door.

Matsuda was right about one thing, he wouldn't have needed the shirt color to tell her apart from the other customers. Dark brown hair draped over her shoulders, framing the face that reminded Matt of both a porcelain doll and a teenager celebrity. She was every bit as beautiful as her brother hand been handsome.

And, yes, he could see him in her. Matt had only seen pictures of Light Yagami, but the familial resemblance was so clear it was a little eerie.

From where he was standing he could see she had a half empty cup of coffee in front of her. How long was she sitting here? Matt knew he had not gotten the time wrong (he may have checked it more than once to make sure of this). How nervous would you have to be to show up for an interview twenty minutes early?

If she was anxious, he wasn't going to reflect the same in his behavior. Trying to summon the warmest smile (and bravest attitude) he could, Matt approached the table.

"Are you Sayu?" he asked pleasantly. Earlier he had assumed it would be better not to use her last name off the bat.

"You must be Matt?" her lips formed a gentle smile, but her eyes held no warmth.

"That's me," Matt mimicked cheer, as he sat down across from her.

"Matsuda said you've been in town for a few days," she said.

"Yeah," Matt nodded. "Although I've mainly been working."

"Oh, there's not much to see," she laughed a little. "It's actually pretty dreary."

"Well it houses good people." Matt had meant this to be a compliment to her and Matsuda, but after saying it heard how bitter the comment sounded. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"No, don't apologize," she shook her head. "You've saved me from being the first to sound awkward."

Matt chuckled.

"So, you have questions?" Sayu prompted him.

"Yes," Matt pulled his notebook from his pocket. Hopefully it would serve more use today than it had recently. "But if there are any that you don't want to answer—"

"I'll tell you," she cut him off with a slight smirk. "Don't worry, I'm very good at interrupting people."

"Trust me, you won't be as bad as the last person I interviewed." He really had a talent for saying exactly the wrong thing. "I'm sorry, I'm usually not this pathetic."

"It's fine, really," she assured him.

"I don't mean—"

"I'm serious," she looked slightly are stern now. "Everyone keeps acting like I'm made of glass and if they say the wrong thing I'm going to break."

She looked like she had more to say, so he simply nodded.

"I'm not as weak as I seem." Her dry eyes filled with a mournful expression.

"I didn't think you were weak," Matt felt the need to voice.

"Good," the melancholy diminished slightly. "Then ask me whatever you want."

"Okay," Matt cleared his throat. "Could you tell me a bit about what it was like growing up in your family?"

"You mean for myself or my brother?" she cut to the chase.

"Both," Matt answered.

She pursed her lips as she collected her thoughts. Shyly she began with:

"I think it was happier for me."

—

 _Children are often raised to be content with what they have. For Sayu Yagami this wasn't a difficult task._

 _Light Yagami was bright since birth, and everyone around him recognized it. Society has an interesting way of accommodating for children like this. Light spent most of his childhood being told he was very bight, very talented, and had a bright future ahead of him. For most of their childhood, his sister watched him enjoy this._

 _Unfortunately, the handful of exceptional children who have the capability to outsmart their teachers must all face the consequence once they do. Light Yagami's teachers were used to knowing more than their pupils. Frankly, they didn't know what to do with him once he reached secondary school._

 _During this time, Sayu would often daydream during maths class so that her brother would have to help her learn the formulas after school. She remembers him coming alive when he was explaining things to her, he loved making someone else understand something that he saw as second nature._

 _As Sayu grew up, it became harder and harder to install this excitement in her brother. The interest he once held for the world grew into a dull apathy._

 _—_

"I thought he was depressed," Sayu admitted. "I mean, I wasn't wrong. I just didn't realize how bad it was."

"He killed people because he was depressed?" Matt asked, at her insistence he had stopped trying to censor how he asked her questions.

"I don't know," she pursed her lips. "My parents don't like to think about it, but I think I can remember when it happened."

"I'm not following," Matt told her.

"I think I can remember that day that he," she paused, probably thinking of a better way to phrase her thoughts. "I can remember when he first became Kira."

"Oh," Matt's intrigue shot through the roof.

"I mean, I didn't realize what happened at the time," she explained. "But I remember, one day he just seemed happier."

"What do you mean?" Matt asked slowly.

"The whole week he had been really gloomy," Sayu explained. "He spent a lot of time acting like nothing mattered. His girlfriend at the time took him to the city of a few days. I thought it was a terrible idea, as if being around hundreds of strangers would make him feel any better. But when he got back he was laughing and asking me about things he used to say were trivial."

"When was this?" Matt asked.

"I looked it up," she started. "And it was the same weekend Kira's first victim died."

"You think that killing the first person sparked this," Matt wanted to make sure he wasn't miss quoting her.

"It's disturbing to think about," Sayu made clear.

Matt nodded.

"I think he thought he was making a difference," Sayu added.

"A lot of people agree with that," Matt tried to be fair.

"Not here," Sayu said solemnly.

"Do you?" Matt asked more out of his own curiosity than for the story.

"No," she didn't miss a beat. "He had a warped sense of right and wrong. Even I can say that."

Matt nodded again. He'd ignore how rehearsed that sounded.

"Did you ever talk about Kira with him?" Matt asked.

"No often," she replied. "He didn't like to, I understand why now, but he used to say that he talked about it enough with our father. I didn't really like it when they talked about their work anyway."

"Work?" Matt wasn't following.

"My brother was trying to catch Kira," Sayu explained.

"That makes sense," Matt didn't mean to say this out loud.

"What?" she gave him a quizzical look.

"Nothing, go on."

"That's why he left," Sayu explained. "Well, that and school. But I think he spent more time on the case than studying. Or doing whatever he was doing with the case."

"Yeah."

"Sometimes it's hard to wrap my brain around it," she sounded like this wasn't something she admitted lightly.

"I can imagine."

"I was never the smart one," she added.

"You're mentally strong enough to withstand the past few weeks," Matt voiced. "That's not an easy feat."

"Thank you," her mouth curved into a grin. "I should probably let you know, I'm supposed to meet with another reporter."

"I don't exactly have rights to the story," Matt shrugged.

"You're very nice," she informed him.

"Thank you?" This felt out of no where.

"Most people are a lot more judgmental," she added.

"Of you?" That didn't make much sense to him.

"Of me, my parents, this place," she sighed. "I know a lot of things went wrong, and it can't have only been his fault that all of this happened, but people just don't try to understand."

"For the past six days all I've been doing is trying to understand," Matt told her.

"And that's nice of you," she smiled at him.

"Thank you," he said again.

"Matsuda said you were here to interview Mihael Keehl," her tone changed only slightly.

"Yes," Matt wasn't sure how else to answer.

He had no idea what Sayu felt when she said that name, but he wouldn't blame her to hold hate to it. Whether or not her brother was a mass murder, Mello was still the man who took him from her.

"You came out here before they knew that Light did what he did," Sayu didn't phrase this as a question.

"Yes," he said again.

"You don't have to tell me. In fact, it's probably not fair for me to ask, but I've been wondering for so long." Her eyes locked onto Matt's, ready to read him if he didn't tell her the truth. "Did Keehl know my brother was Kira when he killed him?"

Matt wasn't sure what the right thing to do was. Mello didn't talk to his lawyers, he didn't talk to anyone aside from Matt, so it was more than likely that Matt was the only one who knew the answer to that question. It was an expensive secret, but it wasn't money or the story he was writing that was on his mind at the moment.

"Will knowing make you feel any different?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she admitted. "If anything it will stop the wondering. It won't settle whether or not he deserved it. Nothing will, for me at least."

She looked at him, not expectantly but gently. That did him in.

"He knew," Matt told her in the most emotionless voice he could manage.

Says nodded. He watched her process the information.

"I'm sorry," Matt felt like that needed to be said to her.

"Light brought this on himself," her voice was numb. "He brought it on all of us."

"Do you forgive him?" Matt couldn't stop himself from asking. "Off the record."

She smiled slightly at the last bit, but it was the falsest Matt had seen from her yet.

"I don't know," Sayu told him. "I don't know what to think about anything anymore."

—

"You're late," Mello announced on Matt's arrival.

"This isn't a set appointment," Matt replied.

"No, you're just OCD," Mello shot back.

Matt glanced at his watch. This was a half an hour later than he usually showed up, but it wasn't like his meetings with Mello were scheduled. Only the first one had been official, the rest seemed more like visits than interviews. Not that Matt chose to look at it like that.

"What were you doing?" Mello questioned.

"Nothing," Matt told him. "I was just running a little later than usual. I didn't think you'd freak out about it."

"This is not what me freaking out looks like," Mello stated seriously. "You don't want to know what me freaking out looks like."

"Okay," Matt wouldn't argue with that.

"So what were you doing?" Mello asked again.

"Nothing," Matt answered again.

"No," Mello wasn't going to let this go. "You're in a shithole in the middle of nowhere, there is no reason for you to be late to the most interesting thing here."

"You flatter yourself," Matt remarked.

"It's true," Mello stated.

"My personal life isn't exactly your business," Matt told him.

"I wasn't aware you had one of those," Mello snarked.

"Sorry, I didn't realize we were in the fifth-grade," Matt said back. "About how juvenile was that insult?"

"Ha bloody ha."

"And he has run out of comebacks," Matt announced.

"Shut up," Mello rolled his eyes.

"No, I think I like talking almost as much as you do."

"Did you have another interview?" Mello asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"What?" Matt didn't know how he'd come to that conclusion.

"You're never late and know absolutely no one here—"

"I wouldn't say no one," Matt tried to interject.

"Plus, it's early and I don't think you'd stop to see the nonexistent sites in the morning," Mello added.

"This isn't really your business," Matt informed him.

"If you talked to someone it was about me," Mello argued.

"Not everything is about you," Matt said.

"So it was about Kira, then?" Mello decided.

"Maybe I got coffee with someone," Matt replied.

"No," Mello dismissed. "This is the most homophobic place I've been to and I traveled a lot."

"When did I say I was gay?" Matt tried very hard not to stammer.

"You didn't." The smirk was back.

"Exactly."

"I have a good gaydar," Mello told him.

"So we are in fifth grade," Matt muttered.

"I'm gay," Mello stated.

"Okay."

"This is making you uncomfortable," Mello seemed proud.

"No," Matt would hold onto what little pride he had left. "But it's not what I wanted to talk about today."

"I'm gay," Mello repeated. "You're gay, and Kira was gay as fuck. Happy?"

"Wait," Matt cleared his throat. "Are you just saying that or—"

"Well I could tell when you first walk in—"

"You know what I meant," Matt forced irritation out of his voice.

"I know almost everything," Mello boasted. "But I don't want to talk about Kira until you tell me where you were."

"Then I guess we'll have to talk about something else," Matt decided.

"You're no fun today," Mello complained.

"Am I ever?" Matt meant this to be sarcastic.

"Usually," Mello answered.

"Great," Matt muttered.

"You could also say that I'm uncooperative today," Mello admitted.

"Are you ever not?" Matt shot back.

"Touche."

Matt didn't reply.

"I knew a little about Kira before hand," Mello must have realized Matt wasn't going to break the silence.

"Oh?"

"I wouldn't have been able to track him down if I didn't," Mello continued. "That's how I knew personal things."

"What about his family?" Matt wondered.

"They weren't important."

"Is that really how you think?" Matt couldn't keep his disgust hidden.

"How else am I supposed to think?" Mello questioned.

"They're victims," Matt replied. "Of him and of you."

"They created him," Mello said darkly. "This revolting little town created him."

"No," Matt shook his head. "I don't think that's how it went."

"What do you know," Mello scoffed.

"What do you?" Matt asked back.

Mello chuckled.

"So it was his sister that you talked to then?" Mello reasoned.

"I don't know what makes you infer that," Matt replied evenly.

"It was," Mello was certain. "You should know that people close to murders tend to blind themselves from their loved ones."

"You're saying Yagami's family could have figured out he was Kira?" Matt asked.

"I'm sure they wouldn't have wanted to," Mello answered. "I wouldn't if I was them."

"But you blame them?" Matt asked.

"I blame a lot of people," Mello replied.

"Not your mentor though," Matt muttered.

"Actually, that's a false assumption," Mello's voice was sharp now. Matt had stepped on a nerve.

"How so?" Matt asked.

"L could have killed him," Mello stated. "He didn't, and then Kira killed more."

"You wouldn't have been involved if he killed him," Matt reasoned.

"Not everything is about me," Mello retorted.


	7. Chapter 7

Matt hadn't expected that the other reporter Sayu mentioned talking to would work so quickly. Only the morning after Matt had spoken to her, his eyes were glazing over an article containing her direct quotes. While he was sure she had remained poised during the interview, he could almost hear her distaste toward the questions she had been asked.

It was without a doubt clear that this reporter's goal had been to expose whatever he assumed had turned Light Yagami into Kira. By doing so, he had ignored any element of humanity that Sayu had told him about her brother. The article did not describe the same man that Sayu had told Matt about. He wasn't about to defend Kira, but Matt knew that Sayu did not remember her brother as a monster.

The reporter's mind set wasn't much of a surprise to Matt. The world wanted to hate Kira—Matt wasn't an exception to this—and he doubted anything written the way Sayu spoke would be well received. Still, he did feel bad for her.

Matt closed his computer. He needed to focus on Mello. He wasn't sure how long he would be aloud to stay on this story, and he knew he needed more. For both his writing and his own curiosity. For now he wouldn't think about Sayu. At least, that was what he decided before oddly bright brown eyes locked on to his as he entered coffee shop they met the day before.

"I was hoping I'd run into you," Sayu started, standing from a table closer to the front to meet him.

"Hi," Matt said.

He took notice of the empty plate and already drunk cup of coffee on the table, but didn't say anything. She wanted to talk about something, but he'd act as causal as needed. It would probably be best not to mention that he had read the other article.

"How have you been?" he asked her.

"It's only been a day," her voice barely mustered playful.

Her eyes were too animated for someone who had just had their words twisted and displayed to the whole world. The rest of her face did look tired, but there was a clear sense of energy about her. Either she had just consumed far too much coffee, or something was wrong. His money was on the later.

"Could I meet with you again?" She asked.

"Sure," Matt wasn't about to deny that much, whether it would distract from Mello or not. "I'll be here again tomorrow morning."

"Okay," she nodded, but scrunched her forehead half a second after.

"Or somewhere else," he tried to help.

"Oh, no, it's not that," she shook her head. She looked like she was debating saying something.

"I won't change your words," Matt regretted saying this as soon as it left his mouth.

Was he always going to be this bad at talking to people? Maybe he should consider a new work line. Actually after this story, that didn't seem like such a bad idea. If he could affording leaving that is. Still, oddly enough he hadn't had this problem with Mello.

"I know you won't," she said seriously.

"How?" he had to ask. What about him made her think that he wasn't exactly the same as the reporter she had talked to before?

"I don't know," she understood what he was asking. "Matsuda trusts you."

He'd talked to Matt even less than she had. Then again the man was a cop. He probably was a good judge of character (despite his almost happy-go-lucky demeanor).

"That's nice to know," Matt said out loud.

"There's something else," she admitted.

"Yeah?" Matt raised an eyebrow.

"I need to show you something," her voice hadn't lost any of it's intensity, but her eyes wouldn't meet his. Instead he watched them circle the empty plate. "I know this sounds weird."

"Everything has been weird lately," Matt reminded her.

"Right," she laughed mirthlessly.

"But is the thing you need to show me something you can bring or is it…?" Matt wasn't sure how to phrase this.

"Could I pick you up here?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded even though she wasn't looking at him.

"Thank you," she sounded relieved.

"Well, I should get my coffee and be off," he awkwardly stated. He really didn't want to deal with Mello being passive aggressive over his apparent tardiness again.

"Okay," she looked up now.

"Would you mind meeting later?" If they were going to go somewhere it would be better to do this after his 'appointment' with Mello.

"Of course."

"Great," he grinned because he thought it might help her to have someone smile at her. "I'll see you then."

—

"Have you been following the news?" Mello's dry tone would have masked his interest if Matt didn't know him well enough by now.

"I'd suck at my job if I didn't," Matt answered.

"You might still suck at your job," Mello decided.

"Debatable," Matt shrugged, he wasn't going to be that easy to get under the skin of.

"Someone beat you to interviewing Yagami's sister," Mello pointed out.

"Someone beat me to writing it," Matt corrected. "Which is what you wanted me to admit."

Mello smirked.

"Great job Matt," he muttered to himself.

"So that's why you're distracted then?" Mello hummed.

"I wouldn't say that's why," Matt answer. "I will say I'm distracted, since that gives me an excuse."

"Ha," Mello stated.

"Do you want to talk about Yagami's sister?" Matt asked.

"You know, sometimes you sound like a therapist," Mello informed him.

"Your attention span gets shorter each time I talk to you," Matt observed.

"One of my many talents," Mello replied. "Do you know why I think you suck at your job?"

"I take it you're going to tell me," Matt sighed.

"You're never going to write this, and you should have realized that earlier," Mello told him. "No one would write what I have to say because no one wants to hear it. It's just like how no one wants to think that Kira's family are victims. People want to assume something about me and think it's true."

"Some people want the truth," Matt argued.

"They want entertainment," Mello exhaled loudly. "That's all this aftermath is. No wonder Near let me do it."

"Let you do it?"

Mello chuckled.

"You know what I hate?" he said darkly. "Before it's over I might have to admit that he's smarter than me."

"But you were the one who killed Kira," Matt stated.

"I was," Mello smiled slightly. "I get the satisfaction."

He was off today, and that was saying something.

"Tell me more about Near," Matt tried.

"I already did," Mello brushed off irritably.

"Well, you're not going to explain what you were just rambling about," Matt matched his frustration.

"I think I'm going to die," Mello stated.

Matt looked at him.

Again he was reminded how young this man was and how even younger he looked. Innocence was the last word he would use to describe Mello, but there was something strangely pure about him right now.

"You've said this before," Matt started. "We've talked about it before."

Was it only real now or did Mello just want more reassurance about what Matt thought was next?

"I know," Mello's eyes were on his, but Matt felt like he was being looked through. He didn't like it.

"Do you not want me to write your story?" Matt asked, to get him present again if anything.

"What do you think would happen if the world knew me?" Mello asked back, but Matt couldn't sense sarcasm.

"I don't know," he answered.

"I don't trust the world," he told him. "The world accepted Kira and then rejected him once he was a man."

"You think the world will reject you?" Matt asked.

Mello laughed darkly.

"You can't reject something that was never accepted," he replied. "Everyone wants to know everything, but are never prepared to deal with the consequences."

"That's a generalization," Matt interjected.

Mello seemed to see him now.

"You're different," Mello decided.

"Okay."

"I don't think you really want to know," he continued. "You act like you do, and you might think you do, but it's going to become too much and you're going to want out, but there's never a way out. There never is, Matt."

Matt wasn't going to admit that he was scared, but the waver in Mello's eyes made Matt think he was either going to cry or throw the table at him. He could see Mello breathing. All at once he was aware of how close he was to him. They weren't being watched right now. There had to be something wrong with that. Matt was alone with a murderer who seemed very, very close to a mental break down.

Or a panic attack.

"Mello," Matt whispered, so as to appear as nonthreatening as he could.

His eyes were wide. They seemed more red than blue. Matt wondered if he had slept at all—if he ever slept. The cell he was confined to couldn't be comfortable.

"You should leave," Mello said this almost sadly.

"Because I know too much?" Matt didn't care how stupid it sounded.

"You don't know anything," his throat sounded dry. "Except for me. And that _is_ probably too much."

He meant this, Matt could tell. As cryptic as he insisted on being, Mello had decided to tell Matt things that were far more personal than his crimes. Matt may not have been let behind the wall's that stood behind that gaze, but he had been shown a peak of what they concealed.

"My real name is Mail," Matt wasn't able to keep his voice from shaking.

Mello's expression changed. Matt let go of a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Mail Jeavas," he continued. "I didn't legally change it, but I haven't gone by it in years. Everyone I know either think that Matt is my real name, or are considerate enough not to ask."

"Why…" Mello's voice was a ghost.

"I told myself I wanted to be someone else," Matt shook his head. "I think I just wanted to hide."

"Why tell me this?" Mello's face was more confused than Matt had ever seen it.

"If I know you, then you know me," Matt tried to smile, but his mouth refused to.

Mello was leaned over the table. Matt hadn't realized that he was as well. He could feel Mello's breath on his face. It was soft and gentle, two words he didn't associate with this man.

"You should still leave," Mello pulled back.

"Yeah," Matt coughed, trying to clear his head. "For today."

Mello nodded.


	8. Chapter 8

"I need to leave early today," Matt let Mello know.

"Why?" The vulnerability Matt had witnessed the day before was very carefully concealed by the usual attitude.

"I just do," Matt knew this wasn't going to work.

Mello seemed this think it wasn't even worth a counter question and simply crossed his arms.

"It's not like I usually stay an allotted time," Matt pointed out.

Mello still did not respond.

"Okay?" Matt wasn't even sure why he phrased it as a question. It wasn't like he needed Mello's permission.

"Who are you interviewing?" Mello's eye were narrowed.

"No one," Matt replied.

"We've already gone over your lack of social life," Mello stated. "I'd prefer to not be repetitive."

"I mean it's not an interview," Matt said truthfully.

Matt wasn't sure if the sound that Mello emitted next was a laugh or a scoff, but the intent to degrade him was clear as crystal.

"What?" he asked in a monotone.

"You're seriously going on a date with Kira's sister?" It was definitely a laugh. A very long, very annoying laugh.

"No," Matt said tightly.

The laugh continued.

"I'm not, now shut up," Matt knew he sounded too defensive.

"The lady doth protest too much," Mello said cockily.

"If you're quoting Hamlet to cover your immaturity it's not working," Matt snapped.

"If it's not an interview and it's not a date than why are you leaving early to see her?" Mello questioned.

"How do you even know she's the one I'm talking to?" Matt asked back.

"Because aside from myself she's probably the only interesting person here that would give you the time of day."

Mello wasn't wrong. Matt just rolled his eyes. He had already won the high ground when it came to maturity.

"So?" Mello looked expectant.

"What?"

"You didn't answer my last question," expectant turned to irritated very quickly.

"You get more demanding each day, you know that?" Matt sighed. "And I don't know why I'm meeting her. But I guess it's closer to an interview than a date. Everything with this story is odd. You could say my entire stay here has been a giant interview."

"Yeah, you could say that but it'd make you sound stupid so I don't know why you'd want to."

"Thanks," Matt muttered.

"But if it was a date—" Mello started.

"If you already pinned me as gay then why are you asking?" Matt almost groaned.

"I've been wrong before," Mello said evenly.

"Oh really?" Matt scoffed.

"It's a very rare occasion, I will admit." Mello didn't even sound like he was joking.

"Right," Matt deadpanned. "Well, she's not my type, and that's all I'm going to say about it."

"Right," Mello mimicked.

"Can we move on?" Matt wondered.

"If you like," Mello shrugged.

"What do you feel like talking about?" Matt inquired.

"Maybe the murderer I killed?" Mello said dryly.

"Okay," Matt ignored the tone. "Let's talk about Kira."

—

Sayu was already standing outside of the coffee shop when Matt arrive. He wasn't late. Actually, he was five minutes early. Again he found himself wondering how long she had been waiting for him and how nervous that meant she was.

"Hi," he greeted her.

"It's good to see you," she looked more tired than she had before.

"You too," Matt replied.

"Thanks again for doing this."

"Not entirely sure what 'this' is," he admitted. "But you're welcome."

"I'm parked around the back," she gestured to the end of the block.

Matt nodded.

They walked in silence. That was probably for the best. He could feel the stress emanating around her, and couldn't think of anything remotely helpful to say.

"Nice car," he commented, mainly just to fill the silence once they reached it.

"It's my parent's," she admitted. "I'll buy my own soon."

"And drive far away?" he honestly wondered.

"Maybe," her face took on a sad type of wistful.

Matt slid into the passenger seat of the car. Sayu let the radio play to cover the silence as she drove. He let his mind drift off, which of course meant his thoughts went back to Mello. The day before he had been on the edge of a panic attack, but this evening had gone by as it usually did. If the calmness was an act it was a very good one. Matt didn't expect to be able to read Mello, but it didn't seem like he was trying to hide another break down.

Matt wondered more out of concern that curiosity. He was getting close. He knew this, even if he liked to pretend he didn't. What would happened when he was too close? Would he be able to leave? The thought brought a knot to his stomach, luckily he was distracted by the car turning into a driveway.

"Home sweet home," Sayu announced as she parked the car. Seeming to sense Matt's anxiousness she added: "My parents are on 'vacation' so you don't have to worry about that."

"I'm not worried," Matt lied.

"Okay," she gave him another smile that didn't reach her eyes. Matt wondered if she knew how to really smile anymore.

He opened his car door first to prove a point. He didn't know why he was anxious. It wasn't like he knew Light Yagami. It wasn't like he had anything to do with the murder or the aftermath. He was just a journalist who happened to interview the killer and then the sister of the victim (if Light Yagami could even be called a victim anymore). This should just be any other house to him. Yet, for some reason, the unsettled feeling in his gut refused to go away.

Sayu unlocked the front door and let him follow her inside. He was surprised that no one had decided to throw eggs at the exterior of the former home of Kira. Maybe this was just too small and too nice of a neighborhood.

The interior was normal and Matt felt slightly stupid for being surprised. Sayu and her family still lived here, of course there wasn't going to be anything out of the ordinary. Until recently the Yagami's had been seen by the public as any other family.

Sayu turned around to lock the door again. Matt wondered if it was because the neighborhood wasn't as nice as he had assumed a second ago. Then again, what she had gone through would give anyone the right to be paranoid. Not to mention her father was a police officer, so this might have been a habit before she found out about her brother.

Realizing that he was psychoanalyzing, Matt brought his thoughts back to the house he had just entered. Doubting his host would mind, he started walking down the hallway the front door lead into. He stopped at what he figured was the family's living room. It was nice, a bit on the simple side, but clearly comfortable.

There was an orange brown couch in the center that could easily fit four people—or three,—and a TV mounted on the wall. Next to the TV was a small bookshelf baring magazines and novels. Matt was fairly certain most were Sayu's. On top of the shelf were pictures. This intrigued him.

Taking a few steps closer, Matt's eyes glazed over a very official looking picture of Sayu's father in his police uniform. There were several school pictures of Sayu that seemed to serve as a timeline of the girl's growth. His eyes stopped at a family photo. Judging by how short Sayu was it had to have been taken years ago. They were standing in front of the ocean, laughing. This was what Sayu looked like when she smiled genuinely. Maybe this was taken on a vacation? One of the parents must have asked a stranger to take it. Matt's eyes stopped on the boy in the center of the photo.

Light Yagami had his arm around his younger sister's shoulders. The look of complete innocence on his face sent a shiver down Matt's spine. Matt had seen pictures of this boy before—hell, the entire world had. Early this week the internet was full of school photos of a handsome young man, a few days ago these had been twisted into something sinister as the public searched for the monster behind the seemly perfect brown eyes.

This was different. He didn't look like an insane sociopath or a talented student. The boy in the photo was just a kid laughing with his family, nothing more, nothing less. He looked so human it scared Matt.

"My dad wanted to put that away." Sayu's voice startled him.

He whirled around thinking of some sort of excuse for looking, but she didn't seem annoyed at all. The only emotion her face held was sadness. She gracefully met him at the shelf, her eyes meet's the frozen ones of her dead brother.

"I think he wants to pretend it didn't happen," she sighed. "Pretend _he_ didn't happen."

"I'm sorry," Matt didn't know what else to say.

"It's stupid," she was talking more to herself than to him. "We can't just lock the memory of him in a drawer. He was part of nearly every moment of my childhood."

"Your father—"

"Disowned him I know," her voice was as sharp as a knife. He watched her close her eyes for the span of a second. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

"No, no," he stammered. "It's fine, really. If anyone has the right to snap, it's you."

"I guess so," she forced a laugh.

"What was it you wanted to show me?" He asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Oh," her brow creased. "I didn't really think, it's kinda odd—"

"Trust me this week has been nothing but odd," Matt cut in.

"Yeah, I kinda fingered. The thing is," she still looked nervous. "The problem is it's in my brother's room."

"Oh," Matt processed this. "Right."

"Sorry," she stammered. "You could wait here if you want."

Did he want to go into Kira's room? No. No, absolutely not. If seeing a picture of this person as a kid freaked him out then he had no clue what bounds of weird walking into this guy's childhood bedroom. It was so many different shades of weird he couldn't put it to words.

However, there was a part of him that was curious. He doubted that seeing the room would provide him with any answers to the questions that he had about the man Mello had killed. This amount of questions had only multiplied upon entering this house.

If Mello were in his shoes (ignoring how completely improbable the idea was) would he go? Matt knew the answer.

"No, it's fine," he blurted. "I'll follow you."

"Okay," Sayu looked slightly relieved. It was only when she was leading him up the stairs that Matt realized why.

Sayu must not have entered her older brother's room since his death. Whether this was out of fear or grief he wasn't sure, but this was clearly why she couldn't have brought whatever she wanted him to see to a public place or even put it in the living room before leaving her house.

There were multiple rooms upstairs. Matt's eyes scanned the other closed doors. As a kid he remembered having a sign with his name on the door of his bedroom, but he hadn't expected to see this on Sayu or his brother's doors even if they had lived here since brith.

"I don't sleep up here much anymore," Sayu murmured.

"Your couch looked comfortable," Matt commented.

"It is," she smiled again.

"Have you ever thought about moving out?" He asked out of genuine curiosity.

"A lot," she admitted. "Even before all this happened."

When they reached the end of the hall, and the door of the room Matt assumed was Light Yagami's, Sayu hesitated. There was a small piece of paper closed into the door a little above eye level.

"I thought the paranoia was because of other things." She didn't say what these other things were, and he had the sense not to ask.

He didn't say anything. If it took a minute for her to open the door, he didn't mind. She was clearly uneasy, and it wasn't his place to ask her to explain to him what was going through her head. When she did reach for the doorknob it was in a fluid motion, as if doing it fast enough would ward away whatever demon lurked behind.

They weren't met with the ghost of Light Yagami as the door slowly swung open. Instead Matt saw the shadow of the person Kira was pretending to be. Everything in the room was neat and orderly. Eerily so.

"It's like no one ever lived here." The words slipped through Matt's lips before he could stop them. In a near panic he turned to Sayu. "I am so sorry, I didn't—"

"No, you're right," she held up a hand to silence him. "He always kept it like this. I could never understand it as a kid."

Matt imagined there were a lot of things about her brother that Sayu could only make sense of now that he was gone. It was more disturbing than sad.

"So the thing you wanted me to see?" He got to the point only because he didn't want to spend anymore time in that room than was necessary.

She walked to the bare desk, and opened a drawer. From this the produced a black leather book. Matt raised an eyebrow when she turned to him.

"I only knew it was here to begin with because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." She looked at the book like it was a venomous snake that may bite her at any moment. "He played it off well enough. It was only after they found out who he was that I remembered it."

"I don't understand," Matt said gently.

Says held the book out to him. Not wanting to be rude, he took it from her.

"That's my brother's diary," she informed him.

Suddenly the harmless book took on a demonic power.

"What?" Matt gapped at her.

"I tried to read it," she admitted. He watched her eyes trail the empty room. "I wanted answers, and I think they're in there, but I couldn't get passed the first page."

"You want me to read this?" Matt realized.

"If you don't mind," she said as if she was asking him to hold a door for her. "I need someone to tell me what they can."

"But why me?" Matt questioned. "No offense, but we literally just met. What about me makes you think that I can be trusted with this?"

"You're an outsider," this seemed obvious to her. "Matt you're the only person I know that didn't know Light. I can't make Matsuda read it, that's not fair to him, and everyone else is this stupid place looks at me like I had something to do with it."

"You can't trust anyone," Matt understood.

"Except for a stranger who didn't judge me when I didn't slander my brother," she finished.

How was he supposed to refuse that?

"Okay," he nodded. "I'll read it."


	9. Chapter 9

Matt had waited until he was back in the hotel room before he dared to open the book. The thought of reading the secrets of Kira was disturbing to say the least. Just touching the book made him feel creepy. He wondered if he should tell Mello about this. The reaction would be interesting, but it was highly likely that it would make things uncomfortable between them. Matt didn't want that. He wasn't really sure why.

Ignoring the churn in his stomach he flipped to the first page of the journal. It was dated several years ago. The year that Kira had first arisen, if Matt remembered correctly.

Well, there was no turning back now.

—

 _I don't feel guilty and I know I'm never going to._

 _This isn't a confession. No one else is going to see this and no one else is ever going to know what happened._

 _I finally got Misa to calm down. I told her we're not going home until she can act normal. Surprisingly I don't think it will take that long. Maybe all of those theatre classes have amounted to something after all. It was easy to get going to the police out of her head. She hasn't trusted the legal system since what happened to her parents._

 _I'm positive that's the only reason she's not scared of me right now. Right now she sees herself as my partner in crime. A day ago I would have laughed at that prospect. At least she's covering for me._

 _If I'm being completely honest with myself, she would be the person I'd choose to be in this with. She trusts me far too much for her own good, and I know her brand of loyalty. Ironically her knowing this is less nerve wracking than when she made me tell her my sexuality. But I digress. I'll just state the facts since Misa had more than covered the emotional side of this "operation."_

 _First of all, I didn't plan it. I want to remember that. That's not to say it was an accident, I knew full well what I was doing, but it wasn't like we went on the trip so I could do it. Secondly, and I made sure that the both of us are prepared to swear the opposite should the time come, but I did know the man. Or I should say knew of him._

 _Dad doesn't know I hack into his computer, so there is nothing that should connect me to this. I like to keep tabs on wanted criminals. I don't need to explain why here. Doing so would only make it seem like I was waiting for this moment, and I can't say that I wasn't._

 _I didn't recognize him at first. In my defense it was dark as hell. Misa was the one who wanted to go out. She claimed that there was no point in leaving town for the weekend if I was just going to stay cooped up in the hotel room all night. We argued for a little bit, until she dragged me out. I think she wanted me to meet a boy, but that's not important anymore._

 _I didn't like the club at all. Those sort of places have always been more her scene than mine. I didn't trust the people around us, because when you grow up with a police chief for a father you learn not to trust strangers in dark rooms. I was trying to keep an eye on Misa as well as blend into the wall, and I supposed I failed at both. I didn't even want to talk to the man who kept trying to buy me a drink—and honestly what about me looks gay in the first place? Did I not spend my entire life creating a perfect facade? Anyhow, one second Misa was next to me and the next she was across the room talking to a face I vaguely recalled._

 _I'll forever thank and curse how I handled the next sting of events. The second I realized where I'd seen the face before, I was across the room and pulling her out of the club. She was irritated, and I didn't want to explain things until we were outside._

 _I was going to call the police. I actually was. I just needed to make sure she was safe while I did so, and I guess the very small amount of alcohol she nearly forced me to consume clouded my judgement._

 _The hotel was a block away. I think my initial plan was to get her to the room, and then go back to the club, spot the guy, and call the police. Then I realized he was following us._

 _Misa still didn't know what was going on, and I've made sure she won't find out the whole story. I can't guarantee what her reaction would be. She would understand, but I know she wouldn't have liked it. It wasn't like I used her as bait. If I hadn't done what I did we both would have ended up hurt. I needed the element of surprise, and if she knew what was going on she would have been too scared to protect herself._

 _In the lobby I told her I needed to go to the restroom, and she should go ahead to the room. She was still pouting that I pulled her out of the club, so she didn't argue to wait for me._

 _Neither of them saw me watch her go up the stairs (we were only on the second floor and she's never liked elevators). He waited half a minuted before following. I did the same._

 _You'd think after everything she's gone through she'd learn to lock doors, especially in a cheap hotel that couldn't afford doors to lock automatically. For once I wasn't angry that she didn't. If he didn't go inside I couldn't do anything. The room was halfway down the hallway. I was at the doorway of the stairs when he went in. At that point I ran. No one else was in the hallway so I didn't have to play stealth any longer._

 _The rest is so ridiculously clean that I'm doubting my sanity now that it's over._

 _She was in the middle of the room. He was walking towards her. I was at the door._

 _She didn't scream. He reached her. I picked up the steak knife on the kitchen counter._

 _She was standing there with her hands over her mouth. He was on the ground. I had blood on my new jacket._

 _I locked the door after that and cleaned things up while she sat in the bathroom trying to breath. The police will have no reason to search this room for blood spatter, but even if they did there are perks to it being a cheep, shady hotel._

 _Getting the body out was harder, but he was lighter than he looked and I never liked that suitcase anyway. I reckon it'll take a week for them to find what's left of him. His remains will be less interesting than what I left with them._

 _I feel like this should be the start of something. I mean, if I could do it once with no preparation imagine how easy it will be when I have time and my full focus._

 _I'll make sure no one innocent is in harms way next time. I'll keep Misa and my family as far away from it as I can. But there is no way in hell this is going to be the end._

 _No, I'm not guilty. I'm proud. In that moment I became something else and I haven't felt this right since I was a kid._

—

Matt understood it now. This journal was Light Yagami's way of staying sane. Well, as sane as a serial killer could be.

Reading the first entry didn't make him feel any less uneasy. In fact, he felt a little sick, but, unfortunately, very intrigued as well. In a disturbed way, he was very interested.

It was official. Matt was on the loony train accompanied by a band of murders.

He took a long, deep breath.

He didn't have to read the entirety of this. Maybe he could skip to what he needed to know. He could start from the middle and read enough to give himself an understanding. Because he had to read at least a little bit more. If he didn't it would drive him crazy.


	10. Chapter 10

Matt had done a good job of not thinking about the conversation he'd had with Mello for the rest of the day. There was too much going on, and Sayu had done a good job of preoccupying him. The fact that Matt was becoming less and less sure what to think when Mello talked about Kira didn't help. Still, now that he had the murderer's own thoughts in his hands, it was hard for Kira and Mello's narratives not to blur together.

"How did you know where he was?" Matt had asked when Mello made it clear that they would be talking about the murder.

"I knew for a long time," Mello's arrogance wasn't tamed in the slightest.

"How?" Matt repeated. If he had to ask redundant questions he would.

"I let Near do some of that for me," Mello admitted. "Not that I couldn't have found him on my own."

"But if you knew where he was prior, why did you wait to kill him?" It wasn't as if Mello had tried to get away with it once the deed was done.

"There were a lot of contributing factors," Mello seemed to have mentally rehearsed this part.

"People only say that when they're covering up a bottom line reason," Matt said flatly.

"Correct," Mello allowed.

"And this reason?" Matt asked.

"It needed to be over," Mello's voice was cold.

"Why?" Matt wasn't in the mood for the vagueness.

"Because it's a game," Mello reminded him. "And when you're playing a game what do you do when your opponent is about to win?"

"Most don't go straight to murder," Matt muttered.

"You change the rules," Mello smirked. "Near wasn't going to. That gave me the advantage over both of them."

"Kira knew about you and Near," Matt didn't phrase this as a question. "And he was going to kill both of you."

"Sorta," Mello sighed. "This was around where he learned the price of arrogance."

"I take it you haven't received this lesson," Matt quipped.

"Funny," Mello deadpanned. "But, yes, he did know about Near."

—

 _I'm very close to getting N out of my way. If everything goes to plan, and my plans seldom fail, he'll be dead by the end of the week. And just like that all suspicion will be gone. I don't believe in luck, but I don't have any other explanation for him finding me in the first place. It won't happen again, this I'm positive._

 _It reminds me a little of a few years ago. This is much easier. N is no where near the intelligence level that_ he _was. If anything it's just nostalgic. Not sure I like that._

 _But the point is that this hinderance is almost over._

 _—_

"Near thought he had the upper hand," Mello explained. "To his credit, he did for a moment."

Matt nodded.

"You see the problem with intelligent people is that they always assume they are one league ahead of their rival," Mello said carelessly.

"And you don't?" Matt wanted to scoff.

"No," Mello met his eyes. "I'm one shot ahead."

"That's basically the same thing," Matt rolled his eyes.

"No, it's not," Mello chided. "It doesn't mean I'm smarter, it means I'm more rash."

"So the next thing you did was something rash?" Matt pushed the story forward.

"First I made a stupid mistake, then almost got myself killed," Mello admitted. "Then I used the fact that he was after me to my advantage. That's something Near didn't think to do."

"So you let him attack you?" Matt asked.

"I let him 'kill' me."

 _—_

 _The accident got a little out of hand. I'll admit that. Still, it got the job done with a minimal amount of civilians at risk. N's little friend won't be a bother anymore._

 _It's a shame about Kiyomi. She wouldn't have been very useful in the long run, and I suppose she did know too much. If she hadn't had to get caught up in that, I may have had to get rid of her myself. Still, it was nice to have someone around who understood. She reminded me of Misa. Although Misa on her vainest days was still less self centered._

 _The task force was pretty shaken after the accident. Matsuda keeps talking about hearing the screaming. It's pathetic. If you're going to dedicate your life to such a dangerous career path, then don't complain about your own squeamishness._

 _He didn't even see the bodies. I did, of course. I needed to make sure that it got him. In the end he was almost too mangled to recognize. The rest of them pulled me out of there real fast. Now_ that _was nostalgic ._

 _Dad thinks I should go home for a bit. I think he then hopes I'll go back to school and get myself far away from this "traumatizing environment." I have no problem moving the fight there. If anything it gives me the advantage._

 _—_

"I don't think Near thought I was dead," Mello pondered. "If he did then I'll reserve the right to be exceedingly offended. But they both counted me out of the game."

"Kira focused on Near," Matt followed.

"Near turned out to be cleverer than he thought," Mello continued. "Then Kira turned out to be cleverer than we thought. So I waited in the shadows while the two of them set the same trap for each other."

"How long did this take?" Matt wanted some sort of timeline.

"A few months," Mello brushed off. "Long enough for me to decide what I was going to do."

"You mean you didn't always plan to kill him?" Matt asked.

"Wanting to kill someone and actually doing it are very different things," Mello said blandly. "I wanted to kill him since I was a kid, but I don't exactly like pulling triggers."

"That's probably a good thing," Matt mumbled.

"Yeah, I'm not a twisted sociopath like he was," Mello mused. "By his logic it makes me 'better'. Not that I really understand his logic."

Matt nodded again.

 _—_

 _This is infuriating. It's been a long time since I've used that word. I'm not going to let memories distract me. I still have the trap set up. I can still kill him without anyone unnecessarily finding out. Having to get rid of a task force member will be very hard to cover up from._

 _—_

"I wasn't going to act so soon. I wanted to get my bearings here first, see if I could get away with it. I wasn't going to in the long run, but I thought I'd give the police a chase for a bit. Plus, I wanted more time to talk myself up. I was going to wait another month, give some more time for him to feel safe and forget about the hindrance he probably deemed me as. Then I realized he was going to try to kill Near."

 _—_

 _I'm staying at a hotel. It gives me more control of the space I'm in, and keeps Sayu and Mom away from any possible danger. I haven't talked to Sayu much recently. The other day she said I was acting differently. I thought she meant I was uneasy, but then she asked if I'd "met someone."_

 _The very thought is hilarious._

 _—_

"Normally I'd laugh that off, because I've never thought killing that kid was possible. Then I did what L would have done, and actually weighed the calculations. I'd like to think if they did end up confronting each other Near would have been the one to walk away from it, but I'm not a wishful idiot. When I looked at the entire situation I knew that he was going to kill Near. I wasn't going to let the bastard win that."

 _—_

 _Checkmate, N._

 _—_

"So then?" Matt asked.

"Then I shot him." Mello stated.

"Well, yeah, I know that," Matt rolled his eyes. "But aren't you going to explain?"

"Explain?" Mello played dumb.

"What it was like," Matt stopped himself from exclaiming. "Jesus christ you knew what I meant."

"I'll tell you later," Mello looked at his nails.

"That's not fair," Matt all but groaned.

"You're not ready to hear it," Mello shrugged.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're just not," Mello sighed again. "And I'm not that desperate to tell. At least not yet."

 _—_

 _Once he's dead I'll be able to get a decent amount of sleep. I'm sick of anticipation rousing me. Everything is in place, I have nothing to worry about._

 _The problem is I keep having the dream. Well, I guess I should stop calling it that since it's not like my subconscious conjured it up._

 _It hasn't changed much. It's still blurry and most of my focus is on my hands and the sheets. I can remember the feel of them and the feel of something else._

 _There wasn't any blood this time. Which it good since the blood didn't make any sense. I'm also pretty sure it was shorter. Long enough to rattle me, but not nearly as long as the actual event._

 _This time I saw his face._

 _I guess that does make sense. I remember looking him in the eyes when I did it, but I tried my best to forget his expression afterward. I thought I'd succeeded until last night._

 _I need to clear my head. I may take a break after the business with N is over. I can afford a week or two of laying low. Relaxation sounds nice._

 _I just need to get those eyes out of my head._

—

Matt finished the last entry of the diary, his mind finally coming back from both accounts. Reading Yagami's last written thoughts hadn't helped clear much up. He was sure this wasn't at all what Sayu needed to hear from him either.

Then there was that last entry. That hadn't made any sense. There was a chance even if he had read the entirety it wouldn't have, but Matt had a feeling that whatever event Yagami was referring to had been detailed somewhere within these pages.

The question was, did he want to look?

Matt flipped to around the middle. There shouldn't be much harm in skimming for an explanation. It wasn't like he had to read everything.

—

 _This wasn't supposed to happen. I hate it. I hate him and I hate what he's doing to me. None of this is real and I'm supposed to be the one who sees that. What the fuck is wrong with me?_

There were a few scribbled out lines here.

 _When I was a kid I thought that romance was a waste of time. Hell, I fucking told my ex three months ago that it was a waste of time._

 _I wasn't entirely wrong. It's a nuisance. He is a nuisance._

 _God this sounds so fucking cheesy._

Another scribbled line.

 _Facts. L has been investigating Kira for three months now. I've known "Ryuzaki" for two. I haven't lost any ground—thank god—but I've had to be more careful. That's another thing I hate: behaving like a criminal._

 _It's not an official task-force. Half of the people here aren't qualified to catch a regular serial killer let alone the most accomplished one of this decade. Most of them are only here because of my father. I only told him I was investigating Kira to justify leaving school. I couldn't exactly continue to kill while maintaining my studies, and Dad thinks that going after a murderer is me trying to distract my depression. Ryuzaki is also here because of me. There had to be half a dozen unofficial groups looking for Kira in this area, but he zeroed in on us and now I'm stuck._

 _Ryuzaki tells me daily that he knows it's me. I know he has no proof. He knows I know he has no proof. It's confusing and exhilarating and I hate the rush it gives me. For the first month I wanted to kill him—I still want to kill him now, it just less burning and that's a problem. That's a huge fucking problem. I think I got used to the idea of not being able to for now. It's disconcerting._

 _I don't know what his plan is. The rest of the task force don't believe him. They trust me too much. It's pathetic, but it's keeping me alive. I'm relying on the trust of idiots to keep me breathing. How low is he reducing me to?_

 _That's another problem. If he could, he would kill me. Those are the rules of this game we've been playing. If I have second thought and miss my opportunity, I'm dead. And if I let Kira die because of some stupid hormones then what does that make me?_

 _I've been blaming hormones a lot lately. It's easier that way. I hate relying on the easy answer, but why else would I want to be this close to the one person who could be able to spell out my doom? I guess I wouldn't be attracted to him if he wasn't this smart. That's why I never dated in high school. Well, that and the closet thing._

 _He's bating me. I know that, but at the same time I don't. I've never felt this uncertain about anything. It's terrifying. Admitting that something scares me is terrifying. Every time I think this it's like I'm giving him power, my power._

 _I'm going to kill him. That will end this. I just need a clear head._

 _—_

Here Matt abandoned the idea of skimming.


	11. Chapter 11

The next page was dated three days later.

 _Minor setback. Okay, that's a lie. Great I'm lying to myself too. That's just brilliant, Light._

 _I sound fucking insane. I think I need a break honestly, but that's not a luxury I can afford. I feel so incredibly weak._

 _I can't chance killing this week. I know he's watching me, and keeping the quota isn't worth getting caught. However, if I don't he can argue that it stopped because he's watching me. Either way I'm stuck and he knows it._

 _—_

 _It's not because I like death. I feel the need to justify that, even if no one will actually listen. I don't enjoy killing them. In fact, watching them die is probably the worst part. I'm not doing this out of some sick sadistic urge. I'm doing this because of what happens after. I know how many victims each of the men and women I kill have to their name and how many more will be added if I don't stop them._

 _I'm not innocent. L's right about that much. I don't care if he, and my father, and everyone I'm pretending to enjoy the company of think that Kira is a monster. Hundreds of would be victims understand what they can't. I'm protecting people, and that is far more important than keeping my hands clean._

 _—_

 _Misa is dead. She jumped off a building yesterday. When they told me I thought that she'd been murdered by someone who somehow realized she was connected to the first one, but there was a note on her dresser. It's sounds like I'm full of myself, but I thought it would be addressed to me. It wasn't._

 _I got a line or two about her being sorry and not to loose hope—what ever the hell she meant by that—and the rest was addressed to this girl she'd apparently been seeing. I guess she stopped telling me stuff like that. Probably around the time I stopped listening._

 _Everyone thinks I have something to do with it. There is no solid proof, but for the first time they're questioning me. They're questioning me for the one thing I honestly had nothing to do with._

 _I expected Ryuzaki to jump on this. I expected him to at least say something, to try to catch my reaction and all. But the weird thing is he hasn't talked to me since we found out about it._

 _It's more infuriating than it should be. I can accept when he's disgusted at Kira, because Kira is something someone like him will never be able to understand. But I don't deserve to judgement for something I have nothing to do with._

 _I didn't have anything to do with it._

 _—_

 _There are times when I consider I've overestimated my ability to keep hold of my sanity._

 _I was prepared for the silent treatment to continue today. At first it seemed like that was what he was intended to do. It was only halfway through to morning that I realized it wasn't just me he was ignoring. I didn't recall hearing him say a word since we were told about Misa. I suppose in the moment I was too distracted to notice._

 _By afternoon I couldn't handle it. I prefer his relentless accusations to the cold shoulder, and the fact that I could feel everyone else's eyes wearing into me didn't help at all. I said I was going for a walk. Instead I went to the roof. Being on a crowded street wouldn't have helped the anxiety._

 _I didn't realize the pull I felt to the edge until I was staring over it. If I looked far enough I couldn't see the building under me. You'd think that would be frightening, but it wasn't._

 _It was as if I was hovering with nothing tying me to the building or pulling me to the ground. I knew that this was what Misa must have seen in her last seconds alive, and instead of that making my stomach churn it was comforting. It felt like I was floating in an in-between state. At the same time I knew that I couldn't balance forever, and very soon gravity would win. I recognized this but I didn't move._

 _Then I was suddenly being jerked backward onto the roof and reality washed away the daze of why I was being drawn to the edge. The force of the pull knocked me backward, in a manor I'm sure was less than graceful. I must have looked frantic, but I was mainly embarrassed. This only got worse when I spun around to face my 'rescuer.'_

 _Ryuzaki muttered something about it being a boring way to end things. I then blurted that I wasn't going to jump. Then he just stared at me. For a long time he's thought that if he focuses hard enough on my face he'll be able to read my emotions. The eye contact was the tipping point._

 _I started yelling at him. Demanding that if he was going to accuse me he might as well just do it, because the silence game was making me want to bash his brains in. His expression didn't even change, and that only made me want to punch him more. He didn't move until I tried to stand up. I don't think he meant to push me down, he probably didn't realize how physically unstable I was._

 _I barked the word "what" in his face, but he didn't fight back. Instead he told in a very controlled voice that he didn't think I killed Misa. Now it was my turn to stare, so he went on to say that Kira had no reason to kill a civilian._

 _I clearly remember each word from this point. I asked: "Then why are you giving me the silence treatment?"_

 _He relied: "I thought Light-kun would want space while grieving the death of his girlfriend. If you'd rather me continue to accuse you I will. Only of what you have committed, of course."_

 _I started laughing. It must have sounded deranged._

 _That made him crease his almost nonexistent eyebrows, and for a second I was shocked that he was actually capable of being concerned for me. I kept waiting for him to stand up and tell me that I needed to go home and regain my already poor excuse for mental health. Instead he just sat their looking worried._

 _I couldn't take it._

 _"_ _Go back inside," I told him._

 _He asked why. I said I didn't want pity from someone who hates me._

 _He said he doesn't hate me. He thinks I'm a mass-murderer but he doesn't hate me. He was about to say something else, but I cut him off by doing something I really shouldn't have._

 _I think I'll blame it on the stress, or maybe on the fact that I've had to repress attraction for my entire life, or maybe on the fact that I've been pretending that I'm not completely in enamored by him._

 _I don't know what he's going to blame for kissing me back._

 _—_

 _I'm in love. And I hate how stupid it looks, but I'm in so deep right now that if I don't get it out I'm absolutely positive it will kill me. That's not even an exaggeration. Imagine how ironic it would be for me to die from stress. Ryuzaki would be too shocked to laugh._

 _Actually I don't know that he would laugh no matter how I died. That's the current problem, or at least one of the many current problems that all string together and link me to him like a long pair of handcuffs._

 _We didn't talk about the case today._

 _I've had to compromise a small amount of my pride in order to keep myself from wanting to kill the rest of the task-force. Long story short I exaggerated a break down in front of a handful of them. I say exaggerated and not faked because they were legitimate emotions. However, had I not needed the disgusting pity of my coworkers, I would have never let them see how pathetic I'm capable of looking._

 _Fortunately after a few tears and some hyperventilating they remembered that Misa was a close friend of mine and abandoned any ideas of me spelling out her demise. Ryuzaki sent everyone home after that. I pretended to have to compose myself before leaving the building and told the others not to wait for me._

 _Ryuzaki called me a liar when I came back into the room dry eyed. I told him it wasn't completely a lie and instead of arguing with me he told me to go home. I sat down next to him and asked something along the lines of "aren't you afraid I'll kill someone if I do?"_

 _He didn't bat an eye, but I didn't anticipate much of a reaction. "You haven't killed in a month, you won't start again the second I say I've turned my back."_

 _I didn't need this reminder. It's correct and it's frustrating and it almost made me forget the good mood I was in. Because he was expecting me to say something, I go back to the old argument. "I'm not Kira."_

 _He reminded me of his current precent chance that I am. It's slowly getting higher, but the rest of the task force stopped bothering with it a month ago._

 _Today I had a new counter: "If I was Kira why would I have kissed you?"_

 _"Why wouldn't you?" He, of course didn't miss a beat._

 _I was prepared for him to think it was another ploy and not me letting something genuine slip. I told myself numerous times to expect it. That didn't make the sting any less painful. At the same time I wish he was right. It would have been a good ploy, and I'll admit that I wouldn't be above using it if the situation were any different. If my heart didn't defy me by hammering at him being his close to me. It made me angry that he could say one thing and make my heart burn, while I could kiss him and he still didn't act any different._

 _When people get angry they do things that they regret, loose their control. Since I understand that I am not exception to human nature I decided that maybe it would be better if I left. I told him so, and was about to stand, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm._

 _I noticed the closeness. I watched him notice it. For the first time in our entire acquaintance he dropped his mask. I didn't know if this would ever happen again, and hungrily searched his face for…for I don't even know what. I was only vaguely aware that he must have been doing the same to me._

 _"Why did you?" His voice wasn't louder than a breath. It made me want to lean into him, and for the first time I realized that this action wouldn't be unaccepted. He hadn't pushed me away the first time._

 _I told him that I don't know why I kissed him. He told me that I was lying. He can always tell when I'm lying. He was about to say something else but I stopped him again._

 _This time it was slower. I was more coherent so I let myself take the time to enjoy it. Instead of a rush of passion and frustration, it was gentle. Intimate. For less than a second I forgot who we are to each other. It was dangerous but blissful._

 _I was the one who broke it, pulling back but not away._

 _"Why did you?" I asked him the same question I didn't answer._

 _The problem was that neither of us wanted to be the first one to voice it. If I let him know that it's real for me and it wasn't for him I would be practically handing him my remote control. I am not going to give him that power over me unless it's an equal trade. That's survival._

 _He decided that I was trying to trick him and told me this. I echoed him, and I know we both hope that we're thinking the same thoughts. But it's too much of a risk. We're still L and Kira, but in that moment I didn't want to think about that. So, instead, I tried to make it about Ryuzaki and Light._

 _Maybe, after years of thinking I was stronger than everyone, I realized I am weak. I wanted this. Maybe a day ago I could have lived with not getting it, but there was no way in hell I wasn't going to reach for what was being dangled in front of my face._

 _I wanted this to be as close to real as it could, so I start with a truth. I knew how juvenile it would sound, but I told him: "You're the first guy I've kissed."_

 _He murmured: "You're the first person I've kissed."_

 _I blurt "really" before I could stop myself. He nodded, and looked slightly embarrassed. I made him embarrassed. I couldn't resist grinning at that. His usually wide eyes narrowed._

 _"You're laughing at me." He commented this in a very dry tone, that made me smile more. I don't think he really understood why. I'm not sure I do either. For a second he smiled back, but then his face became serious again._

 _He asked: "Is this okay?"_

 _I told the truth again._

 _"Of course is isn't."_

 _It isn't for either of us._

 _He nodded. We weren't exactly on the same page, but we were definitely in the same book. I said: "I'm not going to apologize."_

 _I meant this about a lot of things, but I let him decide which one he wanted to take it to. It must have meant something, because the next thing I knew his mouth was on mine again. I let him have control this time. This isn't going to work if I don't do that at least a little._

 _It was faster then. We were both trying wash away reality. The trouble about diving head first is that it's easy to drown if you don't know what you're doing. The problem with being two geniuses is that neither of us will ever admit that we don't know what we're doing. I think we both found that the burn of waterlogged lungs is better than the fear of never jumping. Besides, it's not like we aren't drawn to extremes._

 _I'll call what happened next extreme, because that dilutes every emotions that mixed within it._

 _—_

 _Distraction is a double edged sword. On one hand, I can tell he's not focused—or at least what he's focusing on isn't the case. But on the other hand I hadn't exactly been putting my mind into outsmarting him. I know why I'm letting myself slip. I can't do anything about it if his isn't the same reason. I'm screwed either way. I was screwed from the moment I kissed him. The awful part is that I love it. I love every single second of it._

 _We only talk about Kira in front of the others. I guess it's easier when we're alone for him to pretend he's wrong about me. I wonder if he imagines what it would be like if he was. He probably doesn't realize he wouldn't like the person I was before Kira._

 _I only go back to my apartment to change and write in this now. At the end of the day I pretend that I'm leaving so the others don't catch on. It's better if no one else knows, and it's not like they have a right to my personal life anyway. Even if I was seeing a guy under completely healthy circumstances, I couldn't tell my family. I might have told Misa. If she was still here._

 _—_

 _I really want to trust him. I don't think I've ever wanted anything this much._

 _—_

 _He doesn't sleep a lot. By that I mean I'm pretty sure he only gets an hour or two a night. I have no idea how he's still alive. Anyway, him not sleeping means that he gets to witness all of the shit I say when I'm groggy and don't realize I'm talking._

 _It's never been anything about the case. If I was afraid it would be I wouldn't sleep with him. I mean, I would, but, you know, not the sleep part. Fuck, I sound like a teenager._

 _Anyway apparently last night I asked him the run away with me. Or, more I told him that we were going to run away. He, of course, told me once I was conscious enough to have a fucking verbal filter._

 _I'm good at concealing emotion when directly confronted, but this was different. When we talk about the case we're supposed to lie to each other, but in those moments the truth is what makes the intimacy so addictive. It's a dangerous excitement, and it's high might kill both of us._

 _I asked him what his answer was to sleep deprived me. He reacted that I hadn't really phrased it as a question. Because I was already being so many degrees of foolish, I said: "If it was a question, and if I meant it, would you?"_

 _I watched him think. I'll never tell him how much I love watching him think. He's always been careful to mask his thought process in front of me, but he's not perfect. Every now and then there will be a minuet crease in his eyebrows, or press on his lips. I notice every detail. Now not for the reason that I used to._

 _"Would you keep murdering people if I did?" His eyes locked onto mine, and it was my turn to be read._

 _"I don't murder people," I said because it's not a lie._

 _"Yes you do." He only said this because he's stubborn and is never going to stop. That should have been enough to get me to, but for some reason I defied the judgement I always cling to. I told him I don't want to talk about Kira. He countered that it's hard not to talk about Kira when Kira is in his bed._

 _I kissed him to get him to shut up before he ruined my morning. It was rougher than I meant it to be, but he didn't seem to mind. I only pulled away when my lungs were screaming for air. I leaned back on my pillow, looking at the ceiling instead of him. I used to be a morning person, but now I hate getting out of bed._

 _I didn't expect him to lie his head on my stomach, but welcomed it. His hair is softer than it looks, and I unconsciously ran my hands through it. I don't know how long we stayed like that. I don't have the best sense of time when I'm with him. That's definitely on the list of reasons why this is dangerous._

 _"If the deaths stopped, then yes." He whispered this into my shirt, but I heard it clear as day._

 _"Yes what?" I teased, because he could already feel my heart hammering._

 _"Yes, I would run away with you."_

—

 _I think it was supposed to be a joke. Scratch that. It was a joke. Then we realized how possible this is._

 _We'd disappear for a little bit. Of course notes would be left, so it doesn't look like we were kidnapped or anything like that. He says he has money. I know he wouldn't lie about that. He doesn't have to stop being a detective, and continuing my career path doesn't sound quite so nauseating anymore._

 _Kira will have to die. If I continue he'll continue trying to expose me. We both need to stop, and pretend we met each other some other way. I can do that if he will._

 _After a few months he says he'll contact his guardian. I'll do the same with my family. I know at least Sayu will still want to talk to me. I think that will be enough._

 _We don't know exactly when yet. But when we leave I'm going to burn this book. It's the only left that connects me to Kira, and I need all ties cut._


	12. Chapter 12

Matt made himself close the journal when he realized that the sun was already seeping through his curtains. It was around now that he fully realized how impossible it was to keep himself isolated from all of this. Everyone was acting like he was just a bystander, but by showing him their minds, they took away his ability to abstain an opinion.

He felt conflict. Reading Kira's thoughts were giving him unwelcome ones. Matt didn't want to empathize with this man—he didn't want to see him as a human being.

If Light Yagami wasn't a psychopath what did that make Mello? Was it just as bad that he didn't see Mello as one? When had he decided that he didn't think Mello was insane?

Speaking of Mello, if he didn't get ready now he'd be late again. He'd have to pull himself together for at least the next few hours.

—

"You look awful," Mello informed him in a tone that made Matt think that he didn't mean to be curt.

"Thanks," Matt muttered sarcastically anyway.

"Did you sleep at all?" Mello questioned.

"Are you ready to tell me about the death yet?" Matt didn't like how tired his voice sounded.

"Murder," Mello corrected. Matt didn't want to understand the pride behind using that word. "And, no."

"Okay," Matt cleared his throat. "Then let's talk about Near or L or something—I don't know."

He was very close to rambling. That wasn't a good sigh. Rambling usually lead to loosing control, and he didn't want Mello to know that he was in possession of Kira's diary.

"Okay," Mello drew out the word. "First tell me what the fuck is wrong with you."

"Nothing," Matt said a little too tensely.

"Sure," Mello rolled his eyes. "Dishonesty isn't an attractive quality."

"That's not exactly true," Matt interjected.

"You're right, it's more like the opposite," Mello smirked.

"Did you just do that to inadvertently compliment yourself?" Matt asked.

Mello shrugged.

"So how'd it go with Yagami?" Mello asked.

"What?" Matt's eyes dashed to Mello's in time to see them tighten in a skeptical confusion.

"Sayu Yagami," Mello stated. "Didn't you meet her yesterday?"

"Oh," Matt nodded. "Yeah."

"And?" Mello pointedly raised an eyebrow.

"And yeah," Matt shrugged. "It was just more of what she said before."

"What's wrong with you?" The skepticism turned to blatant irritation.

"Nothing," Matt answered a little too defensively.

"Liar."

"Is it attractive on me as well?" Matt quipped.

"No, it's annoying," Mello said coldly.

"Whatever," Matt shook his head. "Can we please get back on topic?"

"Only because you're so upset," Mello's expression didn't change.

"Oh, I'm upset?" Matt scoffed.

"You heard me," Mello didn't retreat.

"I'm not the one being demanding," Matt pointed out.

"You haven't unclenched your fist since you walked in that door," Mello stated.

Matt looked at his hand. Mello was right. Fuck.

"Oh," he numbly relaxed his fingers.

"You wanna talk about it?" Mello didn't look as vexed now. In fact, he looked slightly concerned.

"I just haven't been sleeping well," Matt lied.

Mello nodded, but Matt didn't think he believed this.

"You want me to talk about Near," Mello stated.

"Yeah." Matt jumped on the conversation not being directed at him, then sheepishly corrected: "I mean, you don't have to. I just thought it would make sense since you apparently can't talk about the other thing."

"The murder," Mello said again. "And, fine. I can talk more about that kid."

"You told me before about the competition between you two," Matt started.

"I know."

"How was the Kira case any different?" he asked.

"In a way it wasn't," Mello answered. "It was just another game of which one of us is better at being L."

"What would have happened if you would have lost?" Matt hadn't thought of this before. A game between two people who are technically on the same side wouldn't result in death. It was the same situation as if either of them lost to Kira.

"We'll see," Mello's voice was brittle.

"I'm not following," Matt told him.

"I know," Mello said again.

"Right," Matt sighed.

He wasn't going to admit how normal this felt. That would be weird. Almost as weird as the fact that he took comfort in it.

"Have you ever been betrayed?" Mello's voice was nearing what it had been the other day. The day that Matt had needed to reel him back from a breakdown. This wasn't a good sign.

"Sort of," Matt said, his attention more on the reasoning behind the question.

"Really?" Mello regard him curiously.

"Yeah," Matt said dismissively. "But it wasn't something I couldn't recover from."

"That's nice," Mello spat the words.

"Okay, where'd this come from?" Matt couldn't deal with cards not being on the table right now.

"What?" Mello wasn't good at faking innocence.

"I was the one being emotional literally ten seconds ago," Matt stated. "Where the fuck is this coming from?"

"Who betrayed you?" Mello asked, heat suddenly rising in his eyes.

"It's not important," Matt brushed off.

"What did they do?" Mello laughed mirthlessly. "Tell a secret they shouldn't have? Make you feel used? God, what I'd give to have a stupid petty problem."

"My relatives refused to take me in." Matt didn't hear any emotions in his words. He didn't understand why they made Mello sit back in his chair. Mello was looking at him differently.

"It wasn't directly after my parents died," Matt found himself explaining. "They did let me stay with them for a while after that. But then I moved out. Tried to get an education. It didn't all go as planned. Then suddenly I didn't have a roof over my head when I made a mistake."

"That's shit," Mello told him.

"Life is shit," Matt said back. "Why did you bring it up?" Matt knew part of the answer.

"Connect the dots," Mello instructed. "I'm sick of your stupid questions."

"Do you not know how to stay controlled or something?" Matt demanded. "Every time I think that you're done throwing salt at me you start up again."

"I'm sorry that you thought talking to someone who's about to be on death row would be a walk in the park," Mello shot back.

"Why do you keep saying stuff like that?" Matt asked. "The guy you killed was a mass murderer. You haven't even gone to court yet—"

"I don't need to," Mello shouted at him.

Matt wasn't sure at what point they had both stood up, but now that they were standing the table between them seemed really small. He could practically hear Mello's heart beat. Mello was one of those people who's body reacted to anger.

"Do you want to die?" Matt knew he was screaming, but he didn't care.

"No!" Mello seemed to realize the weight of that word only after it left his mouth. "I don't want to."

Matt reached forward. His hands brushed over Mello's face, tangled through his hair. The table really was incredibly small.

Matt's eyes were closed when their lips met. He wasn't sure when he closed them. A lot of things were fuzzy, but the taste of Mello's mouth wasn't. The feel of his teeth against Matt's tongue wasn't. The cold sensation of chapped lips wasn't.

Moments like this aren't made to last.

Matt jerked backward. He watched Mello retract from the intimacy in slow motion. Wide eyes met his own frantic ones.

"I'm sorry," he heard himself utter as he ran out of the door.

 _—_

 _This is why I hate emotions. They blur with facts and muddle logic, and I never thought I'd get this caught up in them._

 _I know I love him. I think he loves me. I know I want this. I also know what being Kira did for me, but that's not what's important. I tried to ignore this, but everything I've worked for is unraveling because of him._

 _Yesterday a serial killer I didn't have the focus to end killed a family of four._

 _Four people would still be alive today if I had my priorities straight._

 _I'm being selfish. I am being so incredibly selfish. Kira is bigger than me. Being Kira is no longer about me. I don't have the right to stop._

 _I need to choose between him and justice and I can't._

 _—_

 _He can't prove I'm Kira. He never could. I'm too careful, and no one believes him. I've always been close to killing him. Before Misa died I was closer than he was to winning. Why do I only realize this when my focus is muddled and not when it should have been clear?_

 _I don't want to think this because it hurts. I have never hurt this much in my entire life, and I haven't exactly had it easy._

 _I kissed him first. He only did anything until after I had already made my side clear._

 _If we leave Kira dies, and that means that he wins. He doesn't convict me, but I stop. My brand of justice stops, and he has to understand that is worse than being arrested. If we leave today he doesn't loose anything._

 _I don't want to think this, but I know he's just as calculating as I am. I know he thinks ahead, and I know he doesn't play by the rules._

 _What if this was a lie from the beginning?_

 _—_

 _I couldn't see his eyes when he said he'd run away with me._

 _—_

 _More people are dying because I can't make up my mind. That should be my decision in itself._

 _I love him, but that shouldn't be enough._

 _I still have the advantage. If I don't take it I will loose everything I am. If I do take it I will loose him. If I even have him._

 _—_

 _I'm sorry Ryuzaki._

 _—_

The next page was dated months later with no mention of Light Yagami's "lover." Matt wanted to hurl the journal across the room, but he felt too numb to move. Vaguely he realized that he had just read secrets Sayu probably hadn't anticipated—hell, Mello probably didn't know this.

Matt wished he hadn't read it. From the beginning he knew how it would end. Mello had told him his mentor was dead. And this was Mello's mentor. There was no doubt in Matt's mind. He couldn't believe this. Events like this weren't supposed to happen in real life.

The most awful part was that for a moment he had sympathized with Kira. For a moment he thought that Light Yagami was actually going to make the right decision.

He knew how it ended. Yagami would murder the man he said he loved, and continue being a serial killer.

But Matt needed some sort of solid confirmation. He wasn't even sure why he did. There was one person who Matt had a hunch would know. Without pausing to collect his thought, he dialed Matsuda's number.

"You were on the Kira task force, weren't you?" In the back of his mind Matt knew he should have eased into the question, but his mind was a jumble now.

"I don't think I'm technically supposed to tell—" That was clarification in itself.

"You worked with a man named Ryuzaki, right?" Matt questioned.

"How did you," Matsuda sounded utterly perplexed.

"Sayu kind of told me something," Matt tried to answer. "It's hard to explain, but I need to know something. It's off the record."

"Go on." Matsuda was probably nodding at the phone.

"This detective," Matt wasn't entirely sure how to ask this. "What happened to him?"

"He died," Matsuda answered.

"How?" Matt flinched at the intensity in his own voice. "I mean, I don't remember seeing his name in the list of victims."

"We didn't know his real name," Matsuda answered. "And he wouldn't have wanted his death publicized."

"Is there anything you can tell me?" Matt asked.

"Will this help Sayu?" Conflict could be heard in his voice.

"I think so," Matt answered. "If anything it will help me try to help her."

"Okay," Matsuda sighed. "You can't release this."

"Trust me, there's a very long list of things that I will not release," Matt assured him. "I might loose my job, but there are secrets I won't tell."

"That's reassuring." Matsuda was far too trusting for his own good. "I can tell you how we found the body. Parts of it make more sense now."

"Yeah," Matt imagined it would. "Whatever you can tell me."

"He lived in the same building we worked," Matsuda explained. "Whenever we came in for work he was already doing something related to the case. I don't think he slept much. Come to think of it, I also don't know what he was doing most of the time. He didn't like to explain it to me. I'm kinda slow compared to him."

Matt nodded, even thought he couldn't be seen.

"Well that day he wasn't there when we arrived," Matsuda continued. "I was the last to get there but I think Light was the second. I didn't think anything of that though, none of us did."

"Right," Matt expected this much.

"So I asked everyone where Ryuzaki was. They always said I asked too many questions," Matsuda laughed humorlessly. "Anyway, Light was the one who said that maybe he was still asleep. That got a laugh, since we all knew he didn't sleep much."

"Yeah," Matt hummed.

"His, um, assistant was there," Matsuda added. "And he was going to go look for him, but I suggested we all go."

Matt could feel the regret through the phone.

"Now I keep wondering what might have happened if I didn't." He cleared his throat. "So we decide to go to the room that he slept in. When we got there the door was closed, but not locked. Later we didn't find any prints on it. I was last inside."

Matsuda's voice faltered.

"What did you see?" Matt tried to sound encouraging.

"He was lying completely flat on the bed," Matsuda said shakily. "I've seen bodies before, but this was the most shocking. Not because it was gruesome or anything—actually I think the fact that he wasn't was what made it so haunting."

"You don't have to explain it," Matt told him. "If it's too hard, I understand."

"No, it's okay—I mean it's not okay, but I can talk about it." Matsuda stammered. "So he was laying flat, everything looked like he was sleeping except of his eyes. They were open, and—well, I don't think this is possible but I know what I saw. His eyes had so much emotion in them."

"They looked scared?" Matt asked.

"No," Matsuda responded. "They were sad—no, defeated. Like, I've never seen anyone look that broken. I guess that's kinda ironic."

"And after everyone saw the body?" Matt asked.

"Light started screaming," Matsuda's voice hardened. "It's still really hard to think that he was acting—I mean he had to have been, but it just seemed so real."

"Grief?" Matt's own voice was a whisper.

"Very, very intense grief. At the time I figured he went into shock," Matsuda answered. "Worse than when we found out about his girlfriend."

Misa. Matt supposed they wouldn't have known the nature of that relationship.

"So he was screaming?" Matt prompted.

"We tried to stop him but he was at the bed before we could," Matsuda sounded regretful again.

"He touched the body?" Matt realized that must have been how he got away with traces of him left.

"And the bed," Matsuda's confirmed.

"Right," Matt exhaled.

"His father dragged him out and into another room," Matsuda continued. "They came back ten minutes later."

"And he was calmer?" Matt asked.

"He looked devoid of emotions," Matsuda reflected. "His eyes were just dead. We all thought it was too much for him. Him and Ryuzaki were good friends. I mean, I thought they were."

"Yeah," Matt had the sense not to tell Matsuda what he had read. That was too much for this man, who didn't need to be emotionally connected to Kira anymore than he already was. "How did he die?"

"He was smothered with his own pillow," Matsuda said gravely. "I always thought—well, I didn't think that he'd die, but I thought that if he ever did it would be more, well, you know."

"It's a boring way to end things," Matt whispered.

"That," Matsuda stammered.

"What?"

"That was what Light said," Matsuda told him. "Once we got him to start talking."

"Thank you for telling me this," Matt cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I had to make you relive it."

"No," Matsuda replied. "It's okay."

"I have to go," Matt started.

"Yeah, so do I," Matsuda was trying very hard to sound steady. He didn't.

Matt set the phone on his table, his eyes falling back on Light Yagami's journal.


	13. Chapter 13

Matt couldn't take it anymore.

This wasn't what he thought he was getting himself into when he'd been assigned this story. He hadn't planned on staying here for over a day and he sure as hell hadn't planned on learning the dangerous details of these peoples' lives. Matt had nothing to do with Kira. He was just a writer—he wanted to be just a writer.

The journal was still sitting on his table. It was as if some fragment of Light Yagami still lived within it and that fragments was dead set on carving itself into Matt. He didn't need this stranger's—this mass murdering stranger's—voice in his head.

Looking at the book made him sick. Without full registering what he was doing, Matt moved to the kitchen counter where a paper bag he had brought home his dinner in and forgotten to throw away sat. Skin itching as he handled the cover, Mat stuffed the notebook inside the bag. Not seeing it made him feel a little better.

He couldn't clear his head and he hated that. The emotions clouding him weren't even his own, so why was he getting so worked up. He still felt sick. His blood felt like it was freezing over and leaving him with a burning chill. He felt like he was going to pass out.

He'd had enough.

Matt hadn't unpacked much, so he only had a few shirts and pairs of pants that weren't already in his suit case. He shoved these in without bothering to fold them. A passerby may have called him frantic.

Within minutes everything belonging to him was in his worn out suitcase. Aside from the paper bag that still sat on the kitchen counter, the hotel room was empty of anything that gave the slightest hint he had been here. If he left now it may feel like he had never come to the town at all.

But then there was Mello.

Matt's feet refused to take him to the door when that thought planted itself into his head. Mello probably wouldn't want to see him anymore. That would be more than fair considering Matt's behavior during his last visit. He didn't want to think about what had come over him.

If Mello didn't want anything to do with him, then he shouldn't feel guilt in leaving. And it wasn't like he owed anything to Mello. Honestly, even before the kiss the nature of their relationship was becoming exceedingly inappropriate. If Matt left now he would be better off.

But would Mello? He was already convinced that he was going to die, so much so that he didn't try talking to the lawyers appointed to defend him. Still, death seemed to scare him. Maybe he just needed someone to make him realize that he in order to live he needed to keep fighting.

What if Mello died? Matt knew that it was a possibility. He always knew that. Still, something had prevented him from understanding what this meant.

Suddenly he could see Mello's dead body in his mind's eye. He could see a face whiter than it should be, a mouth too relaxed, and eyes caged shut. The image wasn't graphic, but there was no peace to it. And it was far too like what he had pictured when Matsuda described L's body.

Matt dropped his suitcase back into the middle of the room. Screw better off, he was seeing this through.

—

It was easier to sleep that night than Matt has anticipated it would be. He awoke with a calmer mind set and determination on his side. Maybe it helped that he thought things couldn't get any worse. Well, that was at least why his peace faltered when he realized he was wrong.

Matt was still in the habit of looking at the news before he left his room. The first article when he looked at the Kira investigation made him wonder if he was still asleep and his stressed had formed a nightmare.

There was no way that the people writing this could have known this much. It was baffling and more than a little bit terrifying.

Matt still didn't know how he was going to talk to Mello, but he didn't have time to figure that out.

—

Mello looked tired when Matt opened the door, but—and this may have just been his imagination—the blonde seemed to perk up slightly when Matt stat down opposite him.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," Mello admitted.

This didn't surprise Matt. Maybe it hurt just a little bit, but that wasn't important.

"I'm sorry," he started with. He wanted to say a lot more, but it was clear that this was not a topic Mello was inclined to discuss.

"You keep tabs on the news," Mello stated.

"Are you asking me or—"

"You said you did before," Mello sounded like he was talking more to himself than to Matt. "You're a decent reporter, so you would have to."

"Thanks," Matt muttered.

"So you probably want to ask me—"

"I don't have to," this time Matt cut Mello off.

Mello narrowed his eyes.

"Why?" he asked, his voice wary.

"Because," Matt could feel his forehead creasing. He didn't know where the caution was coming from. "I thought you wouldn't want to talk about it."

Mello shook his head.

"I mean, we can if you want," Matt stated.

"No," Mello was muttering again. "You're not that nice."

"Excuse me?" Matt tried.

"Don't get me wrong," Mello continued. "You've put up with a lot of shit from me, but this is too much."

"Are you going to explain yourself or just rattle on?" Matt took on an accusing tone.

Mello just looked at him for a second. Matt realized he was trying to read him. It wasn't working.

"Look," Matt sighed. "I'm trying to write about you, remember? Not Kira, and definitely not his personal life."

"That's why you interviewed his sister?" Mello scoffed.

"I was asked to interview her," Matt said.

"Oh, cut the crap already!" Mello shouted. "I will put all of my fucking cards on the table if you tell me why you're being so fucking calm right now!"

"I don't—"

"You're telling me that some stupid investigation team can dig up speculation that Kira—that Light Yagami—was sleeping with my mentor and you're not even going to ask me if I knew about this? You're not even a little bit curious Matt?" Mello demanded.

"Calm down," Matt started.

"You're always curious," Mello stated. "Even when you know I'm not going to tell you what you want you ask so why the hell are you quiet now?"

"I interviewed his sister," Matt said this completely evenly, because if he wasn't calm Mello was not going to simmer down.

He watched Mello process this. He watched the wheel turning in Mello's brain, and the realization dance over his eyes. Was Mello always this easy to read?

"She knew," Mello says this slowly.

"No," Matt can say this much truthfully.

He didn't want to tell Mello about the diary. The investigators who discovered L's existence may have found out about the relationship, but Matt doubted they knew the details. The details were too much for Matt to handle knowing, and he was positive they'd hurt Mello more than they could help.

"But she said something she didn't understand," Matt lied. "And it kind of tipped me off."

Mello just nodded.

"I'm sorry," Matt told him.

"Don't be," Mello stated.

"It happened a long time ago, right?" Mello laughed coldly.

"But you're still mad," Matt felt like Mello didn't to know he could see this.

"Of course I am," there was a melancholy to Mello's voice. "It was stupid, but I don't want to think about them."

"Yeah."

"People shouldn't have to know," his sounded defeated. "It's not fair to his name."

"Yeah."

"I'm not justifying him," he said bitterly. "But it's still not fair."

"As I said," Matt reminded, "we don't need to talk abut it."

"Right."

"But there is something that we do need to talk about," Matt cleared his throat.

"What?" Mello eyed him.

"What you're going to say next time you meet with your lawyers," Matt answered.

"Dear god," Mello mumbled.

"I'm serious," Matt stressed this. "Some point soon you're going to realize how in your favor the odds are."

"I hate counting the odds," Mello informed him.

"Tough," Matt said pointedly.

"They don't like to talk to me," Mello reminded him.

"That's their problem," Matt dismissed.

"Why are you doing this?" Mello asked him.

"Because," Matt felt himself smile, "it's important."

"That's not an answer," Mello tried to argue.

"Since you're very cooperative today, I'm going to give you time to collect your thoughts," Matt said authoritatively. "In the meantime, I'm going to talk to them."

"I feel like that shouldn't be allowed," Mello remarked.

"I don't care," Matt meant this. "You're going to humor me and so are they."

Mello just stared at him, but that was okay. Matt was getting used to that stare.

"It's never going to work," Mello gave these words full weight.

"It is." Matt believed this.


	14. Chapter 14

"I'm sorry," was the first thing that Matt said to Sayu.

They were sitting at the same table of the coffee shop he had first interviewed her. He pulled a paper bag from where he'd tucked in under her jacket and placed it on the table. He didn't need to tell her what was in it. Her forehead creased, but she nodded.

"How far did you get?" She asked numbly.

"Not very," he lied.

"Right," she took a shaky breath.

"But it was far enough to know too much," he added. "I don't think you want to read it, or have someone tell you what's inside of it."

"I should remember him as he was," Sayu wasn't looking at Matt. "Even if it's a lie I should be the one person who doesn't remember a monster."

"I don't think he was completely that," Matt said slowly. He wasn't sure how to voice the thoughts he would have rather not had, but Sayu was looking at him with slightly brighter eyes and he figured he owed her something. "There were times when it seemed like he was, but times where I think the rest of us are wrong about him."

"You said you didn't get far," Sayu reminded him.

"I skipped around," he confessed.

"Do you think he," she searched for the right words, "did it because he was angry or..."

"Not exactly," Matt wasn't sure how to describe the thoughts he'd read. "I think it was because he thought he was right."

She nodded again.

"Until the very end he thought that he was right."

"I guess it didn't matter that he was hurting the people closest to him," her voice was sharp now.

"He thought it was a sacrifice," Matt voiced. "That if he didn't he was being selfish."

"Maybe they're right about him being crazy," she said in a small voice.

"Did you ever think he was?" Matt asked her, because the curiosity hadn't quite simmered down.

"No," there was conviction in her voice. "Well, there was one point when he seemed really...off. He wasn't living here then, but I went to visit him. Dad said that Light had seen something bad and was still processing."

"Off as in depressed?" Matt asked.

"Dad called it PTSD," Sayu explained. "But that doesn't make as much sense now."

"I think it does," Matt told her. He wouldn't tell her about L. The news didn't understand the weight of what had happened between L and Kira, and she didn't need the conflicted layer that detail would add.

"You think he was a monster?" She must have been wanting to ask this from the beginning.

"Yes," Matt said honestly. "But I think there was more to him than just that."

"Thank you," she didn't need to say to him.

Matt wasn't sure if he'd helped or made things worse. He'd wanted to help, but he'd seen first hand the little that good intent ever did. His mind went back to Matsuda. He almost wished Sayu had gone to that man instead of a stranger. He may not have known what to do, but at least he knew her. A thought came to Matt.

"Are you going to stay here?" Matt hoped the question didn't too sudden.

"I don't know," she answered almost disinterestedly.

"Don't," he told her with a little too much conviction.

"What?"

"You should leave," he said. "As soon as possible—actually, leave this week."

"Okay," she laughed uneasily.

"I'm serious," he told her. "You, and your brother, and Mello are right about the people here. And maybe no one in the world is going to forget about Kira, but there are so many places that I know don't give a shit about him."

"I should go somewhere I can forget?" The thought seemed to make her uncomfortable.

"Not forget," he shook his head. "Go somewhere you can move forward. All of these things has defined so many people, but it doesn't have to stick with you."

"This is a lot of advice," she commented.

"I know," he said slightly apologetically. "But trust me."

"Okay," she nodded. "I will."

"And," he grinned. "You should take Matsuda with you."

She laughed again, but this time it sounded genuine.

"I might," she admitted.

"He'd a good guy," Matt added, he didn't know much about Matsuda aside from this fact.

"I know he is," she assured him. "You're leaving town soon?"

"Yes," Matt confirmed. "There are just a few things I need to take care of first."

 _—_

Matt had called Mello's lawyers five times. He knew that they were ignoring him on purpose. This made his blood boil, but he knew that if he was going to win this he needed to be collected. If they wouldn't listen to him then he just needed to get Mello to talk to them. He could do that.

This surety faded when he said this much to Mello.

"You need to drop it," there wasn't the slightest bit of amusement in Mello's voice.

"No," Matt was prepared to meet with resistance.

"How stupid are you?" Mello scoffed.

"Very," Matt wasn't moving from his stance.

"You know what," a smirk that held no joy tightened Mello's lips. "I'm going to answer your question."

"I've asked you a lot of questions," Matt pointed out sheepishly.

"You know which one," Mello said coldly.

"Okay," Matt decided to go with this. "Tell me how you killed him?"

"I knew his room number," Mello started. "I didn't even have to find that out myself. At first I thought that being able to get past Near's firewall was an accomplishment, but now I think there was a reason it was so easy. Anyway, he knew what I looked like so I had to make sure he didn't see me before hand."

"How'd you get the room key?" Matt asked.

"I had a knife and used to have to use it on a daily basis," Mello stated.

"I should have figured," Matt muttered.

"Yeah," the arrogance was a note too sharp. "I waited until he was out of the room. I'm not a hundred precent sure what he was doing, but I know it had something to do with his plan to ensnare Near. He gave me about an hour to prepare, which was way too much time."

"You didn't need to talk yourself up?" Matt asked.

"I decided what I was going to do before I walked into the apartment," Mello said flatly. "I waited where he wouldn't be able to see me from the entrance. When he came back I could hear him locking the door. I took my time turning the corner. There was an advantage to him thinking that I was dead."

"He thought you were a ghost?" Matt doubted he would get much more clarification on this.

"No," Mello shook his head. "I think he understood from the moment that he saw me that I was as real as he was. He froze with the most disgustingly terrified look on his face because he knew that if I was alive then he miscalculated. He didn't even move until I pointed the gun at him. Then he ran forward, but he was way to frantic to be precise. I didn't need to block him, I all I did was step out of his way and he practically tripped himself.

"I know he was relatively handsome, but that day he looked awful. I think there were bags under his red puffy eyes. But I know he didn't start screaming until after I fired the first shot."

"How many times did you shoot?" Matt asked.

"You know how many," Mello dismissed.

"Just say the number," Matt insisted.

"First I shot him in the stomach," Mello continued. "It was supposed to be the chest, but he was trying to stand up. I don't think he really got that this was the end of him until the bullet hit him. I'm pretty sure that the screaming was more from his desperation than actual pain. Then I shot him in the chest. I missed his heart, if he fucking had one, because of the moving.

"I was more careful with the last one. Call me a coward for shooting three times, but there were three people I was getting revenge for. So I kneeled in front of him and put the barrel of the gun in the middle of his forehead. He didn't even try to push me off, he just looked at me."

"And what did you see?" Matt asked because he knew Mello wanted him to.

"I saw the eyes of someone who did not deserve to live," Mello's own eyes were clouded over. "I saw why remorse isn't worth it. And then I pulled the trigger, and then blood spatter flew onto my forehead, and then I fucking laughed because that was supposed to be the end of the game I sold my life to."

"So what?" Matt asked as blankly as he could.

Mello blinked at him.

"What the hell do you mean 'so what?'" Mello demanded.

"I see what you're doing," Matt informed him. "You're trying to scare me off, but guess what: I know you're a murderer. I know that you killed him because you wanted to, and that it was probably wrong, and that you've decided you're a monster. But I don't give a damn."

"You can't save me," Mello tried.

"Yes I can," Matt stressed every word.

"You don't understand," Mello told him.

"I do."

For a second Mello just looked at him.

"Matt, can I tell you something about the world?" He didn't wait for an answer. "No one actually gives a shit about you or me, hell, even Light Yagami's parents disowned him once they found out he was Kira. No matter how much someone says that they love you or want to look out for you, they're always going to put their own beliefs first. We're all just out here for our own personal gain, and, yeah, I know that everybody says this but no one actually listens to it.

"Growing up Near and I had a lot of issues, but there was a point when I thought of him as my brother. We both know what we are—pieces in a game that L started and didn't get to finish. It's our job to finish this game and, because he's the smarter one, Near let me think that I won. I got to kill Yagami, but because of that I have to go down with the ship. If I don't die the game doesn't end. That's why he's not going to save me. That's why theres no point in saving myself."

"You're wrong," Matt whispered.

"Sure," Mello scoffed.

"That may be true for you and for Near, but not everyone is like that." Matt felt like the words he was saying were going to choke him. "I don't gain anything from listening to you. We both know that I'm not going to publish your story. When I go home I'm going to loose my job and get kicked out of my apartment because of that."

"And if I live then you get the satisfaction of pretending that the world isn't the fucked up place you know it is," Mello said darkly. "If someone like Mihael Keehl can survive the poor little Mail Jeavas will make it through somehow."

"You know what I think," Matt fought to keep his voice steady. He wasn't good at lying to Mello, and pretending that words flung at him didn't hurt felt like a lie. "I think that you decided that this was how the world works because you needed someway to justify how L died."

"That doesn't make any sense." Mello wasn't any better at forcing a composed tone, and the slight waver was all the confirmation Matt needed.

"You knew about L and Yagami's affair," Matt continued. "Either L let it slip or you found out when you were investigating. I know you're smarter than the people digging up the case now, even back when you were a kid."

"Matt—"

"In the end Yagami still killed L regardless of how he felt about him. He chose his crazy vigilante justice over the one person in the world that you looked up to, and you couldn't rationalize it. Your fifteen-year-old-brain couldn't comprehend how anything could be more important than L, especially to someone who claimed to be in love with him."

Mello didn't say anything.

"News flash, Mels," Matt was fully aware of how loud his voice was getting but for the moment he didn't care. "Not everyone is Light Yagami! Maybe your analysis on the world fits one man—one relationship—but you can't compare everyone to a psychopath."

"Matt—"

"None of this had anything to do with me. I pretended that the reason I stayed here to hear your story was because I was curious and wanted to understand you. But that's not why I'm jeopardizing my own future." Matt didn't stop to breath or consider the weight of what he was saying. "If you live I get the satisfaction of knowing you're alive because I love you more than I care about my beliefs or personal gain. But that doesn't matter because you're not going to try."

"What?" Mello was gapping at him.

"I'm done for today," Matt stood up from the chair. "I'll be back tomorrow after your lawyers talk to you."

"Matt, wait!" The shout was cut off by the door swinging closed behind him as Matt stomped out of the room.

It was only when he was walking away from the building that he realized what he had accidentally confessed. He hadn't meant Mello to know about feelings that he hadn't even admitted to himself. They were illogical, right? He couldn't be in love with someone who he only met a week prior. This was some sort of coping mechanism to the concept of Mello dying.

Why hadn't Mello called him out on this? He could usually tell when Matt was lying. And this was a lie, wasn't it? If it was the truth then what was he supposed to do?

Why hadn't Mello scoffed at him? That's what he was supposed to do. Instead the blonde had stared at Matt with something akin to trust in his eyes. Did he want what Matt was saying to be true? Maybe if Matt could feel this strongly in only a few days Mello could as well.

"Would that change his mind?" Matt let the questions fall from his lips. Maybe if Mello thought about everything Matt had said he'd give up his pledge to die.

Maybe he'd live for Matt. Matt spent the rest of the day and night nursing short lives hopes.

With morning came the next in the string of headlines that continued to mock Matt. This time he didn't have the chance to read it, but was instead informed first hand by a frantic call from Matsuda. The newspaper was left unread and face up at Matt's hotel door as he ran from the building with a numb feelings growing in his chest.

 **Police Station Destroyed Over Night In Freak Fire**


	15. Chapter 15

Matt expected this to hurt.

For someone of his age, he'd experienced his fair share of loss. First his parents, then the handful of friends who had crossed paths with him. He wore these scars under his skin. Every so often one of them would burn like it was being cut a new. That was what loss was supposed to feel like.

Only now he didn't feel like he was being burned. The sharp stabbing of what had been taken from him was replaced with a numb coolness that soaked through him and polluted his bloodstream with empty hopes.

No, that wasn't right. Nothing had been taken from him, because Mello was never his in the first place.

Then there was that small part of him that was angry. Not at Mello or whoever had started the fire in some vain attempted to avenge Kira. No, it wasn't Mello's fault that he was dead, and as long as he didn't know the name of the fire starter they didn't seem fully real to him. Matt was angry at himself, because, after all, what had he expected?

Mello would miraculously be found un-guilty and they'd ride off into the sunset? From the start he had know that Mello was doomed. It was his own fault for letting himself get caught up in it.

When Matt arrived back at the office it was with a sort summary of the Kira case that included where and when Mello had found Kira, been arrested, and lost his own life. The report failed to mention Mello's avenged mentor or any other detail that Matt had deemed remotely personal. Matt wasn't going to betray the secrets Mello had confided in him, even if Mello was dead.

His boss had been disappointed, but, to his surprise and relief, Matt hadn't been let go.

"That's a shame," was all he has said.

Matt didn't blame him for saying that much. This was the biggest story their paper was likely to get in years. It definitely was the biggest story Matt would get in his life.

"How are you?" Linda asked him as he returned to his desk.

"Fine," he tried to say evenly.

"You look awful," she informed him.

"Thanks," he muttered, sitting down.

"Burnt out," Linda added. "You should take some time off."

"I practically took the last week off," Matt pointed out.

"That doesn't count."

She was probably right. Maybe a couple days of sleeping and playing videos games would do him good. But maybe being alone in his apartment would allow the events of the past few days to wash over him again. If he kept working maybe he could pretend none of it happened.

"What was he like?" Linda's question shattered through his thoughts.

Matt handed her his spare copy of the article he had turned in. Her eyes scanned the first paragraph before a frown tugged her lips down. She dropped the article on her desk, dissatisfied.

"I mean really," she pressed.

"He was blonde," he started.

"Matt," she whined, slapped his shoulder lightly.

"Okay, okay," he waved off her hand. "He was really calm."

Linda nodded encouragingly.

"At first I thought he didn't care that he was going to die," Matt heard himself admit. "He tried to convince me he didn't. Well, I think he was more trying to convince himself."

"He was scared?" Linda looked thoughtful.

"I don't know," Matt could feel the tremble threaten to enter his voice. "But he had everything calculated—he'd had every fraction of a decimal calculated for years—but I think he realized his error right before it happened."

It. Was he so weak he couldn't say the word fire? Did he have to put that barrier between himself and Mello's death?

"I think he was scared," Matt's voice came out hoarse but he didn't care. "He spent his whole life accepting his role in some fucked up game and the second that he realized there was more to life than that he—"

Mello didn't realize anything. Matt had forced him to understand it. He had yelled that the cared about him, that he wanted to save him not out of personal gain but out of a word he shouldn't have used.

"What good did it do?" The emptiness wasn't being filled by grief. "Why did I give him hope when it just ended the way he said it was going to?"

A metallic guilt was filling Matt's gut.

"Matt, are you—"

Linda's concerned voice was cut of by Matt swiftly rising for his desk chair. He was shaking. On some level he was aware she could see this. The whole bloody office could see it, but he didn't give a damn.

The people around him knew nothing about the world. He knew nothing about the world.

"I need to go," a voice that sounded a lot like his own uttered.

Matt wasn't aware he was moving until he was bolting out of the room. It's a miracle he didn't trip flying down the stairs, but his legs managed to get him safely out on the the street. He didn't know where he was running to he just knew that he had to keep moving.

The people and buildings around him were blurring together, and the lack of air made his lungs burn. He didn't slow down. He wasn't ever going to slow down. He was going to keep running until the winds slapping against his face made him bleed and the muscles in his legs felt like water.

He didn't register that he was in an unfamiliar part of town. He didn't register the car pulling along side him. He didn't register the faceless people that jumped out of it.

He did register the blackness.

—

Matt was brought into consciousness by a dull pounding at the back of his skull. He didn't open his eyes, he preferred the confused darkness. He didn't remember why his head hurt. He didn't remember where he was.

He remembered Mello, then going home, then running.

Matt jolted up, and his head screamed in protest. Thank god the room around him was dark, he was certain that light would have blinded him. Everything was blurry. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to force them to focus so he could figure out where he was.

Fear twisted around his throat. He had been kidnapped. What is this was about the Kira case? He had been seen in public talking to Sayu and it wasn't exactly a secret that he'd interviewed Mello.

Frantically Matt tried to sit up, but he lost his balanced seconds after. His head slammed backwards onto a carpeted surface. That only made the throbbing more relentless.

"He's coming to." Matt heard a man's voice say.

Matt wanted to freak out, he really did, but part of him decided that he was going to stay as collected as he could. That was what Mello would have done in his place. At least, that's what Matt hoped Mello would have done. It hurt to realize that he really hadn't known Mello well enough to know for sure.

Taking a breath and pushing past the pain, Matt opened his eyes. Immediately he knew where he was. Why would someone kidnap him only to bring him back to his own apartment?

Matt sat up. He was in the middle of his living room. Across the room—and closer to the only exit—were three people.

The woman and man where both wearing suits, and from the way there were holding themselves Matt doubted that this was because they were businessmen. Sitting on the floor slightly in front of them was a boy—Matt wasn't sure on his age but it was clear that he was significantly younger than the other two. His skin was pale and his hair was more so. The only element of him that didn't match the anemic pallor was his eyes. Those were black and seemed to wear into everything they fell on.

"You're Near," Matt stated, matching the black eyes with an unwavering glare.

Mello had never clearly described his competitor's appearance, so Matt never had a set image in his head. But he knew that the kid sitting in front of Matt had to be him.

"Yes," Near confirmed. His voice was lower than expected, but still carried the slightest edge of youth. There was something about it that made Matt uneasy, but he couldn't place what.

"Why are you here?" Matt asked, because what else was he supposed to say?

Near didn't answer.

"This is about Mello, then?" Matt took a breath. "He didn't tell me anything, okay."

"Halle's been following you for the past week," Near stated blankly.

Matt's gaze shot to the woman. Her golden hair reminded him of Mello's, but he felt like he'd recall seeing someone like her in such a small community. Unless she was that good at her job, that or—

"I remember you," he blurted. The woman at the coffee shop who's eyes were always on her computer. Matt had never gotten a good look at her face. The possibility of anyone following him had never even crossed his mind. Was he really this slow?

"So," He cleared his throat. "Then you know about—"

"Kira's diary," Near finished.

"Did you take it from her?" Matt stopped himself from sounding demanding.

"No."

"Good," Matt processed this. "So what? You want to ask me what I read?"

"No, this is about Mello."

"Mello's dead," the words fell from Matt's mouth and for once he didn't care how he sounded. "He's dead because of you."

Near just looked at him. Matt doubted he even intended to respond to that. Good. Matt didn't want to be interrupted now.

"Where the fuck were you?" He could hear the anger rising in his own voice. "You let him take the fall for you and didn't even try to help him! And, yeah, I get that you see this as some sort of game. I get that all this is to you people is a sick, twisted game that someone has to win, but you know what? I never fucking signed up!"

"How much did he tell you about the game?" Near asked.

"Get out of my apartment," Matt's voice was shaking. "You should have helped him but you didn't. You failed, and you don't get to interrogate me like he was the one who messed up."

"If Mello were still alive, would you help him?"

"How dare you ask me that?" Matt spat.

The man stepped forward, but Near stopped him with a gesture of his hand.

"It's alright," Near said to the man. "He's not armed."

Matt laughed at this. It was true. Matt didn't have a weapon against anyone, and the people in front of him had the power to kill him if they wanted to just as they'd had the power to let Mello die. Matt had nothing. He choked on the laugh. His mouth tasted like acid.

"Matt," the blonde woman spoke now. Her voice was gentler, more human than Near's. "It's an honest question. We just need to know what you would have done."

Matt didn't want to answer any of them. He didn't want to speak anymore.

"I knew him too," she said softly—sadly. "Maybe not as well as you did—"

"I knew him for a week," Matt stated.

"But he talked to you?" her eyes searched his face. He figured the other two were doing them same, but he didn't look at them.

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"He told you things he shouldn't have?" she tried.

"He was confused," Matt defended. "He thought he was going to die."

The woman—Halle, he remember Near calling her—nodded.

"No," Matt thought back to when he had first talked to Mello. He looked at Near now. "At first I think he thought you were going to help him. Then he realized."

"You loved him?" Halle asked.

That was too much.

"Leave me alone," Matt said again. He could feel the three of them staring at him, Halle and the man with pity, and Near with nothing at all. He couldn't take it.

"Look," he tried to sound calmer. "I'm not going to tell anyone the secrets he told me. I didn't even tell anyone about Kira's diary, I'm can't do anything with these stories they're too…"

Too heavy? Too wrong?

"Too personal," he whispered.

"You were trying to get him to talk to his lawyers," Halle seemed to say this more for Near's befit than Matt's.

"He didn't want to," Matt stated.

"He couldn't just be pardoned," Near said. "The world knew his face and his name. For what we do, that's as good as death."

"That's very easy for you to say, isn't it?" Matt scoffed. He closed his eyes. He wanted this to be over. "You know who started the fire?"

"Yes."

"Are they dead?" he wasn't sure why he needed to know.

"Do you wish they were?"

"Yes." It was easier to admit this than he thought it would be. "But I'm not Kira."

"Good." Near looked away from Matt for the first time. "He's alive."

"You just said that," Matt muttered.

"No."

It took a second in sink it.

"Wait," Matt gaped. "Wait, what?"

For a fraction of a second the corners of Near's mouth turned into what Matt thought might have been a grin.

"Mello is alive."

"What?" Matt stammered.

"I'm not going to say it again."

"You're serious?" Matt's heart was pounding.

"I'm always serious."

"How?" Matt shook his head in a mixture of shock and amazement. "The fire destroyed…"

Then it clicked.

"You set the fire." It wasn't a question.

"I did," the man answered for Near.

"Why?" Matt asked all three of them, because he honestly didn't care which one answered.

"If he's dead no one will look for him," Near said simply.

Matt realized that this was going to be one of the many things that he just would never fully understand. That was alright. A lot of things were alright now.

"Can I see him?" he asked.

"He's injured," Near hesitated.

"But he's alive," Matt needed to hear this over and over even if it was just himself saying it.

"Yes," Near said. "You may see him."

—

The hospital Near chose wasn't far from Matt's apartment. When Matt asked if they were afraid that Mello would be recognized, Halle told him in a sad voice that she didn't think that would be a problem. It was only when Matt entered the hospital room that he realized why.

Matt was alone. Near and his body guards (at least that was what Matt assumed they were) simply left him the address and confirmation that it would be unlikely he would see them again. Matt was running out the door the second they were gone. He felt like he hadn't given himself the chance to take a breath until he was standing at a sleeping Mello's bedside.

Near didn't confirm if the injuries Mello sustained were skin-deep or more damaging. However, he didn't think Mello would need to stay in the hospital for longer than a few months if he took care of himself. In time Mello would be fine, scarred but fine.

In an odd way, he didn't look that different. He was still beautiful, and still looked just as fragile as Matt had first labeled him.

The burn covered nearly entire left half of Mello's face. The thin line separating the clean and the damaged skin skated over the bridge of Mello's nose and down his cheek. His hair, which had been cropped short, no longer resembled the feminine cut he wore a week prior. He didn't look like Mihael Keehl anymore. But he was still Mello.

Matt sat down in the chair next to the bed. He didn't realize he was crying until he watched a tear land on the bed sheet. He took a few shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down. He shouldn't be crying. Everything was alright now.

"Matt?" Mello's eyes blinked awake.

"Hi," Matt whispered.

Mello sat up too quickly. Matt noticed him wince he pain.

"Hey," Matt said gently, reaching to touch Mello's unburned cheek. "Take it easy, okay?"

"I look like hell," Mello muttered, turning his face away from Matt.

"I've seen worse," Matt replied. "And I'd take burns over death any day."

"How are you here?" There was the hint of a laugh in Mello's disbelieving voice.

"How are you alive?" Matt asked back.

"Hope you're not disappointed," Mello started, but the snark in his face diminished when Matt tightly grabbed hold of his hand. It felt good to touch him, to feel that he was solid and not going to diminish. "It's cheating how the game was supposed to end."

"It wasn't fair to begin with," Matt said with no small degree of contempt.

"I'm sorry you got caught up in it," Mello didn't look at him now. "No one else was supposed to."

"I'm glad I did," Matt meant this with every fiber of his being. "Whether it's for the best of not."

"You're really weird, you know that?" Mello shook his head at Matt.

"Yeah," Matt whispered. He felt like he was going to start crying again.

"But how are you here?" Mello asked again. "Near wouldn't have actually told you where I was."

"That's more or less what happened," Matt admitted. It could have done without being knocked out, but he didn't need to go into that now.

"That's not his style," Mello stated. "It's not mine either."

"He owed you," Matt realized. "Plus you both probably need to make sure I don't tell anyone everything."

"I trust you."

Matt only now realized how close they were. Mello's eyes on him were so intense. He was probably doing that on purpose too. That was so like him.

"Thanks," Matt murmured, looking at the sheets instead on meeting Mello's gaze.

"So, did you loose you job then?" Mello sounded like he was trying to seem casual. He wasn't very good at it.

"No," Matt answered anyway.

"That's good, I guess." Mello was silent for a moment. "Thanks for yelling at me."

"What?" Matt forced himself to look up now.

"Last time we talked," Mello smirked slightly. "Look I know I said a lot of fucked up things."

"It's okay," Matt started.

"It's really not," Mello replied.

Matt watched him close his eyes, breath in, and then look at him again.

"Can I ask you something?" Mello murmured.

"Yeah," Matt nodded.

He knew where this was going. He didn't want to talk about how he felt, but facing that Mello didn't feel the same was far less scary than Mello being dead. He'd just come back from a world where the latter was reality—even if it was only for a day. No matter how much rejection hurt, it wouldn't be fair for either of them if he didn't say something.

"Before you stormed off," Mello said uneasily. "Why did you say that you…"

He didn't finish.

"I know I was upset," Matt said nervously. He didn't know how to vocalize this. "But I meant what I said, as stupid as it sounded."

"I didn't think it was stupid." The emotion in Mello's voice was hard to decipher.

"But it is! I've know you for a week," Matt rambled. "And let me just tell you it has happened to have been the most fucked up, stressful, and painful week of my fucked up, stressful, and painful life. I've told you so many things I've never told anyone. And there are so many things I still need to tell you, things that I probably shouldn't know. And everything has just been so confusing, but if there's one thing that I do understand it's that I love you."

"You mean it?" Mello whispered. Matt I couldn't read the expression on his face.

"Of course I mean it," Matt stammered. "When I thought you were dead—well, you're not, so that's okay, but—Mello, I'd die for you. And I know it sounds—"

Mello didn't let him finish. He swiftly leaned forward and wove his arms around Matt's shoulders, pulling him so close it was hard to breath. For a fraction of a second Matt felt a cool breath dance across his face, but then Mello's lips were locked onto his. It started slow and the second stretched around them, their bodies trying to say what words hadn't well. Then time sped up and they both seemed to realized that time isn't something that should be wasted.

Matt was panting by the time Mello broke the kiss. Their arms stayed wrapped around each other in an embrace that felt less desperate and more promising now.

"If you're stupid then so am I," Mello whispered. "And we both know I'm not stupid."

"Is that your way of saying 'I love you too?'" Matt meant this as a joke, but when met with a very serious expression.

"Yes." Mello kissed Matt's cheek, then his jaw, then his neck.

"You're going to keep being a detective," Matt realized.

"Yes," Mello breathed into Matt's skin. "Or, at least kind of. L still left me some money and connections, even if I have to change my name."

"I," Matt was trying very hard not to stammer but Mello wasn't exactly making it easy. "I used to be good at hacking. I wanted to go into a computer field before I ran out of money for school."

Mello drew back, listening but not understanding what Matt was getting at.

"I could come with you," Matt stated. "If you need a hacker or just someone to, you know, keep you sane."

"Are you sure?" Mello's eye narrowed in thought. "You'd leave your job, your friends, everything."

"But I'd keep you." Matt ran his thumb over Mello's cheek.

"Forever," Mello whispered.

"Then as soon as you're healed, I'll run away with you."

Mello grabbed hold on Matt's hand. Matt squeezed it. There weren't going to let go of each other anytime soon.


End file.
